Dawn of a New Journey
by Knight One
Summary: A tale of a Knight, a Thief, an Illusionist, a Druid, a Bard, and her hamster. On hiatus.
1. In The Beginning

"In The Beginning."  
  
The City of Baldur's Gate, the largest on the Sword Coast, is usually a peaceful one. Recently, however, the small criminal population has risen in both size and activity and a new wave of crime is beginning to overrun the city. All hope is not lost, however. A group of adventurers seek to return peace to the thriving metropolis, unaware of what fate has planned for them.  
  
The horse held itself in a state of controlled fury as it was led into the city. It was not a stupid animal, it new that danger lurked in every dank corner of the city and he would sooner be turned into glue than let anything happen to his master.  
  
"Easy Heartfang." The man holding him gave the horse a reassuring pat. "This place may get a little rough so stay ready." He had trained and raised the horse from a colt and now, Heartfang was a magnificent beast that any man would be proud of.  
  
His journey had been long, traveling from as far south as Nashkell, a good five-day ride to Baldur's Gate with few stops between. Between the bandits and gibberlings that prowl the paths between, the man, his horse, and his sword had seen little rest. With a bit of searching he managed to find an inn where sleep would be a pleasant experience, for once.  
  
The Helm and Cloak Inn seemed pleasant enough. At the moment, the main room was empty with the exception of an odd group: A bard, preparing at the stage; a druid at a nearby table who seemed to be nursing an ale but was getting nowhere; and then an odd couple at the bar, an illusionist and, if the man wasn't mistaken, a thief. Those seemed to have an air of familiarity about them, though he could not see their faces. He had best find his room and take some rest, he had a feeling that something was to happen that night, and his feelings were usually right.  
  
That night, the man got up, donned his cloak, and left the Inn, leaving his horse in the care of the stable boys for the night. He began searching the night streets for any sign of the four from the Inn, walking down dimly lit streets and alleyways darker than the night. The search did not take long before results were made, a shrill scream cut through the night air from a nearby alley. The man thought he saw someone take to the nearby roofs but could not be sure in the gloom. Making his way to the alley as quickly and cautiously as he could he came upon a sight indeed. Standing over the bodies of two dead men, and before a terrified young woman, was what appeared to be a were-cat. As the man looked on, the cat slowly melted back into a human form, bent down to retrieve something from one of the men, and walked away from the alley. As she exited the alley the man could see it was the Druid from the Inn. The young lady she had left behind promptly fainted.  
  
Before her limp body could hit the ground, the man was there to catch her. The spectacle in the alley was grim indeed. The nearest man seemed to have misplaced his head, perhaps due to the Druid's intervention. The other man, who had found his friends lost cranium, lay on the ground, likewise missing most of his body. The man in the blue cloak sympathized with the unconscious woman he held in his arms and carried her away from the revolting scene. "She will do."  
  
When he finally left the woman in a safe place and returned to the Inn, he found a large crowd waiting for him. He discovered that the focal point of the throng was a room in the Inn that was not far from his. Two members of the City Guard were leading out a man n black with his wrists bound and muttering something about "hamsters" and "miniature gargantuan rodents." Behind them stood the Bard from earlier holding something in her hands. Learning from the crowd the events of the evening the man grinned, "She will as well."  
  
The next day, the man took to the Balduran streets once more. Searching street-to-street and alley-to alley, as well as every dark hole in-between. Yet neither the Thief nor her Mage friend could be found. He was beginning to despair when he found his quarry. It may have been that he could feel them coming, but more than likely it was the shouts and curses flying through the air behind him. Turning he saw the pair fighting their way through the crowd as if a balor was chasing them.  
  
A moment later he discovered the reason behind their haste: A large group of men, most likely the local Thieves' Guild from their dress, were also charging through the crowd. When the man saw the look in their eyes, he thought the balor would have been preferable. He added his own personage to the chase, deciding to follow and see what happened. This could be interesting.  
  
Between the thief's skills and the mage's illusions, the band was not only subdued, but humiliated as well. A rather humorous display.  
  
"I believe I have found the third and fourth I need." Now it was time to act. It was time to reveal himself to the ones who now held no only the fate of Baldur's Gate and the Sword Coast, but all of Fae-run  
  
--Well, that's the first of many chapters that I've written. Ends kind of abruptly don't it? There's actually quite a bit of history to the whole story, if you ask nicely I might tell you. Let me know what you think, or any questions you might have about the story, although plot-wise you may want to wait till about, oh. Chapter 5 I think. That's where it really starts to pick up. 


	2. The Gathering: Parts 1 thru 4

The Gathering: Part One  
  
The Druid was unimpressed overall with this city, beyond it being a slap in the face of nature, it wasn't even all that fine a place. Sure, she had saved that girl from those thieves the other night, but she had only done that because she despised rapists. In any case, she would be out of the city soon, back into nature and it's motherly embrace. All that remained for her to do was gather the few belongings she left at the inn. Then it was out of this accursed city and back to her beloved Cloakwood.  
  
In her room at the inn, all was not the same as she had left it, most notably was the man lying dead on the floor near an alcove she had not noticed before. He had been run through with a sword after what looked like a short struggle. Two pieces of parchment lay on the ground next to the corpse. One was a spell scroll that would teleport someone. somewhere. The other was a note:  
  
You seem to have made an enemy in this city. That's what happens when you kill two members of an influential criminal family. This fellow was just a warning, and now they are filling the Cloakwood with traps and assassins. I can help you empty the forest, but first I need you help. Use the teleport scroll at midnight tonight. Lay low until then and watch out for the large man downstairs. You do not wish to dance with him.  
  
The druid had no reason to believe whoever had left the note, but he had done her a favor in dealing with the would-be assassin. Perhaps his claim about more in Cloakwood should be investigated, it would be a good way to "lay low" for a while.  
  
The Gathering: Part Two  
  
The day had been a waste for the bard. She had gone into the city to maybe find some inspiration for a new tale, or an inn or square where she could perform for a few gold pieces. Alas, she found none of the former, and even less of the latter. She was on her way back to the inn she stayed at when something caught her eye.  
  
In the mouth of a nearby alley, a man stood wearing a dark blue cloak. This actually wasn't all that remarkable except the day was hot and the man had his hood pulled up over his face. She could not be entirely sure, but she had the feeling that the man was staring right at her. Perhaps even. beckoning her to come. Then he turned down the alley, leaving her wondering.  
  
Pushing her way through the crowd, she made her way to the place where the man had been standing. On the ground, to the Bard's surprise, was one of here own daggers lying there, set deliberately so it was pointing deeper into the alley. Checking the various sheaths hidden about her, she discovered that they were all empty! Picking up the dagger, she headed in the direction it pointed. A few paces further, she found another of her daggers pointing in a new direction. Following this trail of her weapons, she found herself just across from the inn she was staying at, with one of her daggers pointing directly at the main entrance.  
  
Inside her room, she found her last dagger sticking out of her bedpost, supporting a note. It was handwritten and had a map of her room on the back with an "X" over the small dresser. The note said:  
  
After a game of chase, you are finally led home. If it's a story you seek to entertain a brute in some nowhere tavern, find this last tool. Midnight tonight.  
  
Fastened to the underside of the bottom drawer of the dresser, the bard found a Scroll of Teleportation. Midnight, eh? Well, they say that midnight is the witching hour and witches do make for fascinating stories.  
  
The Gathering: Part Three  
  
It had been a couple of days since their little "romp" through town, and the pair had succeeded in staying out of sight and away from the local Thieves' Guild. The Guild was still a little sore about being tricked out into the open. naked.  
  
"Imagine that," the Illusionist remarked. "They're still mad at us about what you did to them"  
  
"What I did? You helped. I wasn't the one who created the illusion that allowed me to pilfer a few things. You're just as guilty as me." The Thief put on a pouty expression.  
  
"You know, if you keep making that face it'll freeze that way." The voice came from behind the pair. Startled, the pair spun around, the Thief with her sword halfway out of it's scabbard, and the mage beginning to cast a spell on the intruder.  
  
The man before them wore a dark blue cloak thrown back to expose his chain mail armor and long sword belted at his waist. Recognition dawned on the pair's faces.  
  
Throwing her arms about the Fighter, the Thief exclaimed, "It's you! It's really you!" The impact was unexpected and caused the Fighter in blue to stagger back a step.  
  
"Yes, it's me, but perhaps not for long if you continue to greet me like that. I was surprised to see you in town, mush more so to see you being chased by a band of rogues. Been making friends again?"  
  
"'Friends' is hardly the word I would choose," the Illusionist grumbled. "You know how she can be." The illusionist simply ignored the glare the Thief shot at her. "What are you doing here? Not a social visit, I think."  
  
"You're right." The Fighter reached behind his back and pulled out a scroll, which he handed to the Thief. "Use this at midnight tonight, I'll explain everything then. See you later." The Fighter turned and disappeared into a nearby shadow.  
  
Opening the scroll they discovered that it was a Scroll of Teleportation. The young mage began studying it; maybe she could decipher the destination.  
  
"My God, it can't be."  
  
The Gathering: Part Four  
  
The cave was dark, for the most part. The only light source was a brooding, blood red glow coming from further up the cave. Then, four shafts of light suddenly appeared, coalesced into human shapes, then, one-by-one, winked out, plunging the cave into darkness once more. Out of the gloom, a sphere of light appeared, floating above the finger of the Illusionist and illuminating the section of cave the four adventurers stood in.  
  
Getting a good look at the others in the cave, the Druid dropped into a fighting stance and hissed, "Rogues! Come to steal from me? Not while I still draw breath!"  
  
"Hold, Druid!" A voice out of the darkness said. Stepping out of the darkness and into the light provided by the mage's cantrip, the Fighter was all business. "None here are your enemies, and all are needed for a great task."  
  
Not relaxing a hair, the Druid turned to face the fighter. "Who in the Nine Hells are you?!"  
  
"Yes," the Bard added, "Who are you to bring us here in the middle of the night? And now that I've thought of it, where is here? There's less light than in a coffin."  
  
"I can answer that last question." The Illusionist turned and pointed toward the red glow. "That is caused by the fiery breath of Osilligar, the Great Dragon, one of the High Dragons that hold the Spine of the World. He will be less than pleased to find five, living, humans lurking about in his cave. Especially since the entrance to it is hidden deep within the mountains and is guarded as fiercely as any dragon can. I assume his horde is further back."  
  
"Hey," the Thief interjected. "Isn't he the one that we-?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Oh, my. This might be bad."  
  
"Osilligar is not the issue here, and this is the one place where I could be sure that no one would overhear what I'm about to tell you. If someone knew what was being planned, we would be dead before we could ever begin." The group pushed thoughts of horrible death by dragon to the back of their minds and tried to focus on the Fighter. "The reason I brought you her is because all the peoples of Faerun need you, and so do I."  
  
The Fighter reached behind his back and pulled out a flat box, about half a foot wide, with the imprint of a hand on top. Setting this box on the ground, he placed his hand in the imprint, muttered a few words, and stepped back.  
  
Images began to appear above the box, pictures of all sorts of crimes, from robberies, to murders, and other things to horrible to describe.  
  
"I'm sure I don't have to tell you about the dramatic increase in evil deeds in Baldur's Gate. You have all seen that for yourself. What you may not know is that it isn't limited to that region, but spread across the entire world. After carefully studying and searching I have discovered that there is a source to the madness. The problem is I don't exactly know where it is." The flow o f crimes stopped and the picture of a man hung in the air. "This man does however. His name is Damian and he is the key to finding the source of these crimes. Unfortunately, he himself is also difficult to locate."  
  
The image changed again, this time to five, scruffy-looking, thievish types. "These are his trusted henchman, if you believe this man is capable of trust. If we can find these men, we can find Damian. This image is from a while ago so they may not look the same as this. But I'm sure we can find something." The Fighter put his hand on the box once more and the images disappeared. "I'm not going to lie to you. This will be dangerous. Death is a definite possibility for everyone here. I'll leave the decision to each of you; I won't force you to go. Druid, even if you decide to stay, I will help you clear your forest, and you Bard, I know of other adventures, you could use these tales to spin songs that will marvel your audience. My old friends, I'll provide you with the usual whether or not you come. Think on it while I go and speak with our host."  
  
The Thief gasped, "Osilligar knows we're here!"  
  
"Yes, how do you think we were allowed to meet here? Worry not, debts are paid, friendships forged in a baptism of fire."  
  
The Fighter began to walk off toward the red glow.  
  
"Wait!" The Druid shouted, "You never gave us your name!"  
  
"I am the Blue Knight."  
  
--This chapter was actually a four part series that I had decided to just lump together into one since each little part was fairly short. This way I don't have four separate files I have to deal with all at once. Thanks to mia1218 and rat queen for the reviews, and we'll see if I can get another chapter posted faster than this one. 


	3. Saviors?

Saviors?  
  
"Well, young one," the dragon's deep, booming voice made the walls of the cavern tremble. "Have you found adventurers willing to help us?"  
  
"Yes, friend Dragon." The Blue Knight had seated himself on a broken stalagmite. Surrounding the pair were torches, lit by the dragon, set about to provide adequate illumination.  
  
"You are sure they will help? It would not bode well for all if they should reject their offer."  
  
"Doubts are not like you Osilligar. They will help us. What choice do they really have? Fight with us, or succumb to the darkness that the rest of the land is being plagued by?"  
  
"Yes, as the world crumbles, they will see the continents shatter and all the creatures of the world will become extinct."  
  
"A grim picture indeed. Bu it is not for us to change their decisions. We can only hope that they agree."  
  
"Bring them here. Let us hear their decisions."  
  
In the back of the cave, the four adventurers hadn't made up their minds yet, but were reaching their conclusions soon.  
  
" I don't understand how a few pockets of criminals could threaten the world so." The Druid pondered. It seemed ridiculous.  
  
"Weren't you looking at those images? Those weren't just from Baldur's Gate. Some were Luskan, Neverwinter, Beregost, even as far North as Icewind Dale. These aren't just a 'few pockets of criminals.'"  
  
The Bard shook her head, "I've been up and down this region more times than I can count, and I've never seen anything like this. To be honest, I think this Knight guy is insane. He probably lured us here to become a midnight snack for some dragon."  
  
"If that had been true, you would all be having this conversation in Osilligar's gullet." The Knight had returned.  
  
"Don't you ever get tired of doing that?!" The Druid hissed at him.  
  
"It's an old habit of mine, the only advice I can give you is pay more attention to your environment. Come, it is time for you to meet the dragon." With that he turned and headed back the way he came. Without hesitation, the Thief and the Illusionist followed him into the back of the cave. The Druid and the Bard shot worried looks at each other and followed warily. They both knew the stories about Dragons and this one in particular. They had good reason to be afraid.  
  
Osilligar, as mentioned aforetime, is one of the High Dragons, which would make him one of the oldest and wisest creatures to roam the Forgotten Realms. This also means that he is more or less a very dangerous creature. He is the one dragon that even the Creator races feared. To anger him is folly, but to befriend him would be the greatest honor of all. Despite the great scars that crisscrossed his thick hide, Osilligar looked like any other dragon to the five humans.  
  
The Dragon's basso voice resonated throughout the cavern, "Welcome young ones. I am Osilligar of the Dragons. Your presence in these humble tunnels brings honor and glory to me."  
  
After a moment of silence, the Bard stepped forward, "Greetings Great One, your invitation into your hollowed abode is the deepest of honors."  
  
The dragon's chuckle vibrated the cavern, causing pebbles to fall and clatter down walls. "Ah, some still remember the Old Ways, in the time when there existed a bond between the draconic and human races. But such is not the reasoned you've been summoned. The child who brought you here has already told you of what you must do; now I require your answers. Be mindful, your choice will have a profound consequence, and you will not be to go back on your choice. Once you have decided there is no second chance. Bard, what say ye?"  
  
"Far be it for me to insult a dragon. Besides, this is such stuff as legends are spun. I'll do it."  
  
"Very good. And you, Druid?"  
  
"The winds whisper of evil and Mother Nature trembles at an unseen touch. I find I must do what I can to restore balance. My gifts are yours to command."  
  
"Excellent. Mage, how answer ye?"  
  
"Any time the Blue Knight shows up and tells me my help is needed, trouble is usually around the corner. I had best come along to pull us out."  
  
"A wise answer, misfortune does seem to nip his heels at times. Now you, Thief, what have you decided?"  
  
"I go where my friends go."  
  
"Very noble. You have all answered in the affirmative, yet there is still one task left to perform. This will be the bond that ties the five of you together. Once this is done there is no turning back from the path set before you. Follow me."  
  
The great Dragon heaved to his feet and started towards the rear of his cave. The five followed behind, through the great cavern then into and past his horde into a small cave where only a plain pillar stood in the center. "Gather around the pillar and link your hands."  
  
The humans did as they were asked, then the Great Dragon's voice seemed to boom throughout the world, shaking their very souls.  
  
"From beginning to end, from birth to death, from creation to destruction. A ray of light connecting the world's hope that none can destroy." With the fading of the last rumble from Osilligar, the five companions felt something new, as if they knew each other, yet they were still strangers.  
  
The dragon sighed, "It is done. Out hope is in your hands."  
  
--Sometimes I can't figure out how I want a certain part of the story to go and I'll have to force something out. This is kinda what happened with the whole of the Dragon's Lair. sequence, I guess you'd call it. I needed a way to push them out on their quest and give them a reason to stay together. The first five chapters about are probably the ones that need to be rewritten the most. If you have a better way, send it to me. I'll probably do something special for you. Okay, thanks once again to my previous reviewers, Mia1218 and ratqueen, as well as my new one Your Brother. I hope to hear from all of you again as well as new ones as well. 


	4. Searching For A Clue

Searching For A Clue  
  
It had been several days since the band of unlikely heroes had left Osilligar's cave. The search for Damian was not going well. Many of the leads they had investigated had come from unreliable sources at best, and usually amounted to dead ends, some even had a few swords waiting as well. Conditions in the Sword Coast had only grown worse. Groups of cutthroats traveled the streets openly, one only had to listen to the hushed whispers of anyone nearby to learn any particular band's reputation.  
  
As they say, "News travels fast, bad news travels faster."  
  
The Blue Knight and his friends had setup a meeting place in the Helm and Cloak Inn, a central location from where they could strike out and search for their target. All the time spent with their noses in the cold was starting to fray nerves.  
  
"If I have to crawl through one more dark, smelly sewer," the Thief started, "someone is going to have a chasm wider than the Sea of Swords!"  
  
The Knight only shook his head, "I'm sorry you had to go through that, but you drew the short straw, You also know the underground of Baldur's Gate better than the rest of us." The Thief only shot him a menacing flare as she fingered the knife at her belt. Before she had a chance to do anything, though, the Druid returned from her own search.  
  
"Ho, Druid, the Knight greeted her, glad for the timely diversion. "Have you had any luck?"  
  
The Druid shook her head, "No, I've questioned every deer, bear, badger and mouse from the Cloakwood to the Coast Way, none have any clue to offer. Did anyone else find anything?"  
  
The Thief placed her fists on her hips and, with an annoyed air, said, "If anyone would let me finish instead of trying to ignore me, I have a lead that may help." Everyone in the room turned to her, the Bard decided to enter the conversation, "After all that whining, we all thought that you hadn't discovered anything. Why didn't you just tell us to begin with?"  
  
"You didn't give me a chance."  
  
The Bard rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh; the Thief just ignored her and continued. "While I was down there, I stumbled across one my former 'associates' who was trying to lie low after avoiding major incarceration."  
  
"He was hiding from the authorities, you mean," the Mage said.  
  
"Yeah, that's what I said. So, naturally I decided to ask him if he knew anything about that Damian fellow. When I mentioned his name, my former 'friend' didn't seem to want to talk about it."  
  
"Which obviously meant he knew something."  
  
"My thoughts exactly. So I decided I need to. persuade him to let me have the information."  
  
"So what'd you do? I don't suppose you asked nicely?"  
  
"Of course not."  
  
"Bribed?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Interrogated?"  
  
"Not exactly."  
  
"You flat-out beat it out of him, didn't you?"  
  
"Of course not! I'm not that mean."  
  
"Then what did you do?  
  
"I held my knife to his throat and said if he didn't tell me what I wanted him to know he would have another hole to breathe through." A loud groan engulfed the room as rampant head shaking overtook her companions.  
  
"Well," the Mage said, "Did you get the information?"  
  
"Yes I did. It seems that one of this 'Damian's' lieutenants is holed up in a fortress a little north of Neverwinter. If this guy is reliable, and under the right kind of pressure he's the most honest man in Abir-Toril, then this guy may know where to find Damian."  
  
The Blue Knight stood, "Very good, we'll investigate this right away, unless anyone has anything better? We'll leave as soon as everyone's ready."  
  
Everybody began to file out of the room to prepare for the journey north. Before she walked out of the room the Thief turned to the Knight and said, "You know, not everything I said back there was completely true."  
  
"I figured as much, you didn't pull your knife on him, did you?" "Nah, he actually just told me. I just told everyone all that because whether I'm fighting on the side of good or not, I still have a reputation to keep."  
  
"Don't worry, you're reputation is safe."  
  
A few days travel later found the group camped just south of the city of Neverwinter. Huddled around the fire for warmth an listening to the Bard pluck at her harp, the adventurers began to think of how, after all this time, they really didn't know anything about each other.  
  
The Blue Knight looked at his companions and said, "Well, we should at least find out what to call each other. It would probably be best not to use our true names in case the enemy could find a way to use such information against us. If you a name you would prefer us to call you by, speak it. I have told you already that I am called the Blue Knight, or just Knight if you prefer."  
  
The Thief spoke from her place near the fire, "Many know me by the name Crimson Blade. You can call me that if you want."  
  
The Mage was the next to speak up, "There are those who would call me Fade, although I haven't been doing much recently to hold true to that name. Still, if we can't use our true names, that one will do as any."  
  
Lying on her blanket, staring up at the stars, the Druid said only, "Fel."  
  
Crimson Blade looked at her, "Beg pardon?"  
  
"Call me Fel, for that is what Nature calls me when she speaks." A silence took the camp as the companions thought on this.  
  
Resuming her harp, the Bard said, "You're all going to laugh or ask the question that everybody asks me, but don't, not yet anyway, but call me Elfsong."  
  
Fade looked over at her, "You mean like the-," a shoe thrown at her by Blade cut her off.  
  
"Very well," Knight said. "Now I recommend that we all get some rest. Tomorrow is going to very busy."  
  
--Ah, chapter four. Our characters now have names instead of just referring to them by class. This is another one I would like to re-write so it flows a little better, I probably should since I've got quite a few chapters already written but I'm lazy. So you guys get what I already have. Next chapter I'll tell you a little about how I write these. 


	5. The Tale of the Crimson Blade

The Tale of The Crimson Blade  
  
"This is going to be much more difficult than I initially expected." The Blue Knight crouched behind some shrubs staring out at the fortress where their quarry had secured himself. To say that it was well defended would be an understatement. The guards patrolling the wall looked like they would attack anything that so much as broke wind in their general direction. Knight turned to face his companions.  
  
"How bad do you think it is?" Elfsong asked.  
  
"Well, we have very few options in this case, namely two. One, we can stroll up to the front gate, magically dodge anything they shoot at us, and ask, nicely or not, where we can find Damian, and hope we're not dead at any point during this entire suicidal escapade."  
  
Crimson Blade grinned, "Sounds lovely, and number two?"  
  
Knight looked straight at her.  
  
"Even better."  
  
A few minutes later, she and Fel were pressed against the wall of the keep, trying to stay low and out of sight.  
  
Stopping herself from stepping on what must have been the twentieth twig, Fel grunted quietly and whispered, "Why was it me that had to come along on this little soiree?"  
  
Blade responded so quietly, Fel almost lost it in the rustle of tree leaves, "Because no one else is quiet enough, an if you keep talking that loudly we'll be found before we even get in." They snuck along the wall a little longer until Blade stopped suddenly, "I think there may be a way inside here. The stones in this wall are loose but we won't be able to move them from this side. Wait her and I'll be right back." Without another word, she began to scale the wall and disappear over the top. Fel waited... and waited... and waited a little longer. She began to worry that maybe her friend had been captured.  
  
Wait a moment. Did she say friend? Yes, she supposed she did. She stopped to think on this until a grinding sound in the wall startled her. A stone in the wall slid out a few inches and stopped, then, a stone near it began to slide out as well. Fel started pulling out the stones and laying them quietly on the ground. On the other side was Blade, unharmed and definitely not captured.  
  
"Let's go, we don't have a lot of time."  
  
Fel climbed through the opening in the wall and they quietly replaced the stones they had removed. They were in what appeared to be the stable yard of the keep, a cart had bee pushed up against the wall. How she had moved it would apparently be a tale for another time, Blade was moving as fast as stealth would allow.  
  
They made their way quietly out of the stable and into the main yard. The pair moved along the walls and through the shadows. Guards were fingering their weapons, looking like they were searching for something to use them on.  
  
Eventually, Blade stopped at a hole in the wall near the ground that was just big enough for them to slip through. Motioning Fel to follow her she squirmed through into the darkness of the other side. When Fel pulled herself through, she that Blade had lit a small torch and placed it in the middle of the room. Crates of various sizes formed a wall between them and what must have been the only doorway. Once Fel was safely inside, Blade pushed another crate in front of the hole they had come through.  
  
Finally speaking, she said, "Sorry about all that. When I got over the wall, I had to knock out a sentry to keep him from spotting you. They found the body sooner than I expected and we were lucky to find this storeroom to hide in. We'll have to stay here until it quiets down out there, at least until nightfall, then we can make our move. In the meantime, we won't have to worry about staying quiet unless somebody comes through that door."  
  
"Until nightfall? I don't know if I can wait that long. I never enjoy staying still, or not being able to see the sky."  
  
"Well, we'll just have to find a way to distract you for a little while."  
  
"Any suggestions?"  
  
"Too bad we didn't bring the Bard with us, I'm sure she has some interesting tales to tell. I know a few, nothing that's too exciting or even particularly interesting."  
  
Fel set herself, cross-legged, on the ground, "Hmm, this problem deserves deliberation..." Blade leaned against the wall and the pair lapsed into thoughtful silence for a few moments. Fel then spoke up once more, "That Knight fellow, he's a bit odd."  
  
Blade chuckled, "Yeah, you could say that."  
  
"You seem to know him well."  
  
"Well, this isn't the first time he's gotten me on one of these crazy quests of his. He's always had a knack for getting me and Fade, my illusionist friend, into several pots of hot water."  
  
"How'd you meet him?  
  
"Ah, now that's a long story."  
  
"Great, that solves our problem.  
  
"I don't know, it' not a very interesting story. You might get bored enough to chew your leg off just to get me to stop."  
  
"I live with animals, I'm not one myself"  
  
"Alright, don't say I didn't warn you..."  
  
Blade settled down on a crate and thought carefully about how to begin her story, "I suppose I should start a bit before I actually met the Blue Knight. I grew up in as normal a family as one could have, but I wanted more out of my life. I wanted thrills and excitement. I decided that being a rogue-for-hire had just about everything I wanted. Unfortunately that idea fell through and I became your everyday, average cutpurse. It wasn't long into this low of my life that I met the Blue Knight. I can still remember the calls of the merchants hawking their wares..."  
  
* * *  
  
"Pots! Pots for sale!"  
  
"Fresh fruit! Apples imported from Calimshan!"  
  
"Find your steel here! No adventurer should be without a stout blade!"  
  
The woman with fire-red hair wove her way through the crowd; today she was making her usual rounds through the city of Baldur's Gate, "milking the herd," as she called it. Nobody seemed to be carrying much coin though, as pickings were slim. A sedan chair weaved its' way through the crowd, and she briefly considered making a run on it. After catching a look at the big bruisers guarding, however, she though better of it.  
  
"Ah well, not every day can be payday." She began to turn and head back to her small home in the lower city when something caught her eye. A man was strolling down the street toward her. He was wearing a blue cloak with his face hidden well within the hood; he walked as a man with a purpose. She figured she had found a nice purse in this fellow. She began to walk toward the man in blue and adjusted her course so they would collide. As they neared, she examined her mark, and there it was, hanging like a ripe apple from his belt, just waiting for her to take it. She readied the small blade she kept up her sleeve, three... two... one... They ran into each other, and with the speed of a master thief, she whipped out her dagger, cut the purse from his belt, and secreted both away in mere moments.  
  
"Sorry," was all she said to the man when they looked at each other. She walked away quickly before he realized what had happened during their brief exchange. She looked back at him and found that he was still staring at her, and then he turned and walked away. She ducked into an alley to calm her heart. His gaze had been...unsettling.  
  
"Most think twice before stealing from me," a voice said. The thief started and found the man standing in front of her. "The rest live to regret. Give back the purse and we'll walk away as if nothing happened."  
  
"And if I don't?"  
  
The man fingered the hilt of his sword and looked straight into her eyes, it was almost as if he stared into her soul. "If you don't? Tell me, do you know what the word 'requiem' means?" The thief shook her head. "It's a lament for the dead. Many have sung such for those who trouble me. You would not care to have one sung for you."  
  
The thief raised her hands and took a step back; her right hand began to reach into a pouch on her belt when her left hand suddenly flashed, throwing a small jar of stun powder to the ground. It broke open with a loud, ground-shaking sound and flashed a blinding white light. She turned and ran down the alley as fast as she could.  
  
As she ran past a wooden pillar she felt something catch the sleeve of her jacket. A dagger had buried itself in the pillar with her jacket pinned between, just barely missing her arm. She tried to pull the dagger out, but it was sunk to deeply. She would've simply removed her jacket, but the dagger had her tunic pinned as well, and she was not going to walk about the city without that.  
  
The man in blue walked up to her, shaking his head. The thief snorted, "Last time I buy stun powder from a place called Thieves' Picks 'N More. You should still be holding your ears and half-blind."  
  
"Your powder did its' job well. If I had been able to see clearly that knife would be in your back instead of this pillar. The purse, or you can stay here."  
  
She really had no choice, she handed over the small bag she had taken from him. He bounced it in his hand a couple times, and then held out his other hand. The thief sighed and pulled a fat coin from her boot and slapped it in the waiting hand. He replaced his recovered gold on his belt and began to reach for the dagger in the pillar, then stopped. "You keep it," he said. Then he turned and started back to the main street.  
  
"Hey! You can't just leave me like this!" the Thief shouted at him.  
  
"You'll free yourself eventually. If you can't, then you should try a different profession." He turned onto the street and disappeared into the crowd.  
  
The Thief pulled at the dagger, using all the strength she could muster with one arm, but she couldn't pull it out. She would need both hands. She could wait for someone to come down the alley and ask them for help, but the kind of help that was likely to find her would more likely cut her throat than free her. She could tear through the cloth, but then she would ruin a perfectly good jacket and tunic. That left only one option open to her.  
  
Not if all the murders in the world were walking down the alley would she do that. Grimacing, she began to yank at her sleeve, pulling the cloth over the razor-sharp blade. It wasn't long before she heard a ripping sound and with one more great pull, she managed to tear through the rest of the cloth and free herself. "Great, just great,' she muttered. She had just ruined her favorite jacket and her best tunic. "That guy's going to get a piece of my mind for this one." A few chuckles caught her ears and she turned to look at their source, standing at the mouth of the alley were two of the worst looking men she had ever seen and she was sure they were coming for her. Sure enough they both pulled blades and started towards her.  
  
She grabbed the dagger in the pillar with both hands and pulled down as hard as she could, the dagger pulled out of the wood and she turned to face her soon-to-be-former attackers. The two men suddenly stopped in their tracks, both wearing a puzzled look on their face. It was if she had disappeared of the face of the planet.  
  
"C'mon," she growled at them, "Don't want a piece of the pretty girl anymore?" Both men's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, they turned to look at each other then ran back the way they came, screaming at the top of their lungs.  
  
* * *  
  
"Wait, let me get this straight," Fel said. "You took his gold and he left you vulnerable to rapists, thieves, and murderers?"  
  
"Right."  
  
"And you're helping this guy?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Did I miss something here?"  
  
"Yes. The rest of my story, in fact."  
  
"This will be good. Okay, so you pulled the dagger free and scared of a couple of wool-heads. What did you do after that?"  
  
"Well, Knight had embarrassed me, and I wanted some revenge." Blade took a deep breath and went on, "Unfortunately, finding one man in a city of thousands was not an easy task. I had somehow tracked him to this seedy inn in the Lower City. I planned to sneak in his room while he slept, hang him out the window with his pants down for embarrassing me, and make off with his valuables."  
  
* * *  
  
Night had fallen over the city, and the time had come for her to exact her revenge. She approached the wall of the inn and began to scale it, despite the meager hand- and footholds. When she reached the window of her victim, she quietly jimmied the lock and entered. She was a ghost's shadow. There he was asleep on his bed, not knowing his doom was nigh. She drew the dagger he had left her and stalked to the side of the bed. She swung the blade, aiming to hit him over the head and make sure he remained unconscious, her hand was halfway there when another hand grabbed her wrist, pulled the blade from her hand, and threw her to the floor.  
  
The man got up, no sign that he had been asleep on his face. Lighting a candle he said, "Good. I was afraid you would either be stuck there all night, or took the blade and went on with your life. But in coming here, without me even noticing you until you were about to give me a headache, you have proven your skill."  
  
"You left me in that alley, embarrassed me, and now you're congratulating me on my skills as a thief?"  
  
"Don't worry about the alley. I was there watching the entire time. If those two had gotten the better of you, my sword would have gotten the better of them. That dagger is also a magical one. When the blade is exposed, all one has to do is grab the hilt and be rendered invisible. That's why those poor chaps ran away screaming. They thought you were some kind of demon."  
  
"So you're saying..."  
  
"Your dignity is intact. This was all a test from the moment you snatched my purse." While her anger at the man still flared, it lessened a little when she learned that no, he hadn't embarrassed her, in fact, he had taken steps to maintain her dignity. While that was no great comfort, it was no small one either.  
  
"Why were you testing me?"  
  
"I have a job that requires special skill, while I can avoid being seen, I am not as adept as you are at certain things."  
  
"So you need a rogue. Why me? There are plenty of others out there."  
  
"I need the best. The test was to see if you were willing to take a risk to get the job done. Granted, there are better ways to go about it, but your stun powder caught me off guard." He shook his head, "And I thought I was ready for anything. When I saw my dagger had pinned you to that pillar, I improvised. I am truly sorry you went through all that though. You can still keep the dagger, don't expect its' magic to last much longer though, I couldn't afford one of greater craftsmanship. If you still want to, you can do to me whatever you feel is proper, so long as you take this job." The thief thought for a few moments, then she got up, walked over to the man, and slapped him across the face, after that, she used her purse knife to cut a small crescent in his wrist. The man took it, but the pain was clear in his eyes.  
  
Somewhat satisfied, the thief said, "Alright, you've got yourself a rogue."  
  
* * *  
  
"The job actually entailed sneaking into a castle, distracting a couple guards, opening the back door for Knight, and helping him make off with some rare artifacts that had been stolen from some museum or school or whatever. I finally decided to forgive him for his 'test' when he saved my life from a guard that got a little too distracted, and eventually he introduced me to the illusionist, Fade, who has been my friend since."  
  
Fell shook her head, "That is the strangest story I have ever heard. If he had done that to me, I probably would've ripped his head off, whatever he needed me for."  
  
Blade nodded, reached behind her back, and pulled a dagger out of its' sheath. It was simple; the leather wrapped hilt had only one decoration, a ruby inlaid on the guard. It had long lost the powers it once had, but she had a feeling that another power, one deep within it, had yet to awaken. She wasn't sure when it would happen but she knew, when the time was right, she would understand why he had given it to her.  
  
"Hey," Fel said. "The moon has risen, its' time to do what we came to do."  
  
The Crimson Blade, Rogue of Baldur's Gate, got up, sheathed her dagger, and said, "Let's do it."  
  
--This is a chapter that actually underwent major changes during the course of writing it. So this is probably a good example to use in explaining my writing style. When I write, I have a very basic plan of what's going to happen in the chapter. Then I write a first draft with pen and paper. This is usually were I come up with everything, the outline is that barebones. Then I type it up and use that opportunity to make any changes or corrections I feel are necessary and then there you have it. Finished product. Thanks to Shadow Fox2 for reviewing, I hope this meets your desire for more, at least for the time being. And I'd like to ask anyone who reads to at least drop me a note to let me know that more than 4 people are reading this. 


	6. A Lot Of Time To Think

A Lot Of Time To Think  
  
"No, please! Don't hurt me! I'll give you anything you want! Gold! Power! I've got a rare jewel that they say a dragon's breath made! You can have it! Please just don't hurt me!" The man began to sob uncontrollably. He was short, fat, and completely out of his element.  
  
He seemed to be the typical bureaucratic type. The Crimson Blade and Fel had no trouble getting him out of his fortress and back to the camp. Well, almost no trouble, he was pretty heavy. And not very strong willed either. At the merest hint of interrogation he had broken down, a rather pathetic display."  
  
The Bard, Elfsong, spoke to him in a firm voice, "Stop simpering, coward. There's nothing more degrading then watching a grown man cry." The man eventually got himself under control. When he had finally calmed himself down, the Knight kneeled in front of him.  
  
"Listen, we're looking for someone, you know who he is. We need to know where he is, and what he's been doing. If you help us, we'll help you."  
  
"I don't know anything, I'm only a supplier."  
  
"What are you supplying?"  
  
"Weapons, clothing, odds and ends that few people could find, whatever my clients need."  
  
"Who do you supply?"  
  
"I can't tell you that. If I did, he'd kill me."  
  
"What makes you think I won't?"  
  
The fat man sat there, openly afraid. Sweat poured down his face as his jaw worked, as if he was trying to decide whether or not he should talk, not liking either outcome. Finally, he closed his mouth.  
  
The Blue Knight nodded and turned to his companions, "I need a sleeve and a block of cheese."  
  
The man's eyes widened and he spoke, well, more like screamed, "All right! All right! I'll talk! I'll talk!"  
  
"Very good, so talk."  
  
"He's in Luskan, I don't know if he's what you're looking for but he's my contact. Please don't hurt me!"  
  
"Do you have a name?"  
  
"Yes, he's called Jarra."  
  
"Good. Now I want you to get up, and run as hard as you can, as far as you can. Any direction you like, so long as you don't go back to your guards. Go." The man got up and bolted, running hard.  
  
"He's fast for a fat man," Fade remarked.  
  
"Unfortunately he has little endurance," Fel observed. Her sharp ears still tracked the man as he ran. "He's already out of breath."  
  
"He's not our concern now," Knight said. "We need to start making our way to Luskan." The five adventurers packed away their things and began their trek toward the port city of Luskan, where criminals made their home.  
  
It had been three days since their road had begun, and they were in sight of the pirate city. It was about time too. Heartfang was not a pack mule, and didn't enjoy being one either.  
  
"Easy, we're almost there, we'll set camp soon." Knight gave the horse a reassuring pat on the neck.  
  
"Why do we have to sleep on the ground again?" Blade stopped to pop her back, "Every night I hardly sleep because of those stupid tree roots. Why can't we find an Inn in Luskan to stay at?"  
  
"Night will fall soon, and that's one city where no one wants to be out at night. Unless of course, you happen to be a pirate, cutthroat, or any other less than savory type."  
  
Fel broke in, "I for one am glad that we are camping out of doors. I can't stand to be closed in."  
  
"That's because you never have been," Blade remarked  
  
A voice in front of them caused the group to jump, "You will tonight though, I guarantee it."  
  
A man stood in front of them with his arms folded in front of them. The man smiled as they reached for their weapons. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, my men are ready to fill your bodies with arrows if you so much as make an improper gesture at me. I don't take kindly to people who are going to try and kill me."  
Knight looked him in the eyes, "We weren't going to kill you."  
  
The man smiled, "I know, I said you'd try."  
  
"You don't understand-"  
  
The man cut him off, "What I understand is that you five threatened my good friend Feth with his life, and were planning to do likewise to me. Now, if you will accompany me and my men, we have arranged a place for you."  
  
The man turned and started toward the city. He said over his shoulder, "Oh, and don't try anything, you'll be dead before you could blink.  
  
-- There we go, a nice short one to get you all set up for the next chapter. I'm actually not quite sure what to say about these anymore. Whatever there is to say about them has been said. I suppose if anybody has any questions you can e-mail them to me, just make sure you put the name of the story in the subject line or I might clear your e-mail away with the spam. Okay catch ya on the flipside. 


	7. Bard's Song

Bard's Song  
  
It soon became apparent that Jarra was not a gracious host, far from it actually. The five adventurers' soon found themselves locked away in a dank, smelly dungeon. Graffiti marred the walls, and some of it explained the rank odors that assaulted their nostrils. Some of the former occupants had written colorful suggestions as to exactly what Jarra could do with his treasure/cooperation/relic. Others had written moving poems or heartfelt letters to their loved ones. Judging from all that, they figured they wouldn't be in the dungeon long enough to call it home.  
  
They had started be doing a thorough check of the cell, looking for any loose bricks, bars, or hinges that they might be able to exploit. Then they each examined the lock, an intricate beast that would be difficult to pick at best. Blade thought she might have been able to do it if she still had her picks.  
  
That was the other thing; their hosts had been very thorough when they searched the group, taking everything they had except their clothes, which had been searched thread by thread, checked any and all places they might have been able to hide a weapon or tool. They even forced them to drink a foul concoction that had made all five of the vomit, ensuring that they hadn't swallowed anything to hide it from them. They were then bodily tossed into the cell, still clutching their stomachs.  
  
All their belongings sat on or next to a table not six feet away from them. They might as well have been on another dimensional plane for all the good they were doing.  
  
"Great, just great," Elfsong said sarcastically. "Now we get to live the rest of our lives, which may not be very long, in this festering pit."  
  
"Stay calm, Elfsong," Knight was still examining their prison. "You of all people should know that looking on the bright side of a situation is important. I've been in tighter spots than this before and managed to get out in something resembling one piece. I'm sure this will be no different."  
  
The women traded incredulous looks with each other, the situation looked bleak no matter how they looked at it.  
  
The bard shook her head, "You are right about one thing: good cheer must be maintained. A distraction is in order, though this place is rattling my nerves enough that my knees are playing a melody."  
  
Fade stood next to her, "Why would this place make you nervous? I thought Bards were unflappable."  
  
"That's not necessarily true, we can only hide it better. It's just that this isn't the first time I've been in a dungeon, and the last time was only slightly less pleasant than this time."  
  
Blade sat herself in front of Elfsong, "Now this is a tale I have to hear."  
  
"Are you sure? I know many others, like the tale of Drizz't the Dark Elf."  
  
"No, this will probably be more interesting."  
  
Knight leaned against the wall, "You might as well tell it, you've started already."  
  
"It's a long story, we may not have the time."  
  
Fel leaned against a wall and glanced down the dungeons' corridor at their two guards. "We aren't going anywhere anytime soon, it would seem."  
  
"Alright, I'll tell." Elfsong pulled her furry companion, Boo, out of his pouch and set him on the ground. He scurried around on the floor at her feet before stopping and settling on the ground. "Boo says that it'll be good for me to tell others of my troubles, but I think he just wants to hear the part about him."  
  
* * *  
  
She had been working in the inn as a serving girl for almost a year now. It wasn't the most glamorous occupation she could think of, but anything was better than scrounging the streets. Plus she was off her family's accursed farm, in the city where she had a much better chance of finding fame and fortune. Besides, in exchange for her hard work, she received free room and board, plus the Inn's owner, Mistress Tabitha, was kind to all her employees.  
  
Another perk was all the stories she heard from travelers that came through to stay at the famous Elfsong Inn, tales of bandits on the roads and adventures in the frozen Icewind Dale, tales of a band of adventurers that saved the Nashkell mines and ended the iron shortage down south, to the single hero who saved Neverwinter from the foul plague of the Wailing Death.  
  
Bertha, the inn's cook, put two plates on the counter and directed her to the table were some patrons were starting to become impatient. The inn's stage was empty, which wasn't unusual, the Elfsong had its' very own special performer.  
  
Legend tells of how an Elf maiden died many years ago on the ground where the inn was built. Now, every once in a while, a haunting voice will sing such a melody as to make the strongest barbarian weep. Nobody really knows what she is singing about, the form of Elvish she uses died out long ago. Most believe that she is singing about a lost love, what other reason could inspire such a mournful sound?  
  
Smiling at the patrons, the young woman made her way back to the kitchen. She sat, more or less collapsing, onto one of the stools. The day had been long and it wasn't over yet.  
  
"You look pooped, child." Bertha smiled her big, motherly smile at her over her large cooking pots. The kitchen was permeated with the smells of Bertha's home cooking. There was bread in the large stone oven, baking, as well as sweet cakes cooling nearby. Bertha was like a mother to all the girls at the inn.  
  
"Yeah, it's really busy tonight, although I'm sure you knew that."  
  
"I've had to do three pots of stew already. Lots of people to hear her tonight."  
  
"Wouldn't it be awful if she didn't sing tonight? We might have a riot on our hands."  
  
"You're right. She can be unpredictable, and this wouldn't be the first time he didn't come out when she was expected to. If things do get out of hand, I want you to come straight back here. There's a tunnel under my woodpile. You and the other girls will have a way out if things get nasty."  
  
"Don't worry Bertha, I'm sure everyone would understand that we have no control over her. She does what she likes and that's it."  
  
"Regardless, it's better to be ready for everything. Now go take this to table four, they're about to start a riot as it is."  
  
The young waitress picked up the plates and made her way back out into the common room. She, the Elf maiden, was supposed to start any moment now. This was the one time that she could be predicted. Some think that 's because this must've been the day she died.  
  
The time came... Silence.  
  
The crowd waited, but nothing came. The tension in the room became palpable. Soon, patrons began to mutter irritably. Then Tabitha walked out, and onto the stage. The young woman made her way to the stage. She knew what the announcement would be, and she wanted to be near her employer and friend in case she needed help. Tabitha cleared her throat and looked out at the crowd.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen," she began. "The Elfsong Inn is sorry to announce that tonight's performance, it seems, will not take place. We are very sorry, but this is beyond our control. Everyone is more than welcome to stay. Thank you for your patience."  
  
The crowd sat quiet for a moment, then one man got up.  
  
We were promised the greatest voice in the world! You tricked us!" The man took a bread roll off his plate and threw it at the Innkeeper. She managed to avoid it but more food was on its way. The young waitress' fear had been realized, a riot was building and she and Tabitha were right in its' way.  
  
"Please," Tabitha was pleading. "Please calm down. If I could make it so, she would sing, but there's nothing I can do about it."  
  
The patrons were starting to crave blood. Tabitha just managed to avoid a dagger that would have buried itself in her chest had a she not been quick enough. The waitress admired her employer for her courage but the situation was getting out of control. She made her way up the stage to help her friend. The poor woman was frightened to death. Dodging various objects being thrown at them, she managed to get Tabitha off the stage.  
  
"Quickly," she said to the innkeeper. "While I distract them, run for the kitchen. Bertha will see to it that you're safe." Still trembling the innkeeper could barely nod her understanding. "Go!" The woman began to move. The waitress took a deep breath and began to climb the steps of the stage once more. As she did, she began to sing the song she had heard so many times in the Inn.  
  
She stood in the center of the stage and amidst the bottles, bread rolls, and other such things, she sang her heart out. Her voice fought to be heard over the rioting patrons, but eventually, the song captured their hearts, and the room became silent.  
  
The song was beautiful, yet sad at the same time. And for a few moments, every man and woman in the room felt the pain of something lost. Then, another voice joined with that of the girl, singing the same song, but more personally it seemed. The voices of the dead and the living joined together to create something that mere words could never describe. Their voices weaved in and out of each other, weaving an image that even the greatest master could never paint.  
  
As their song ended, the woman who would become a bard looked at the throng, and saw the tears in the eyes of all. Then one person, the same one who had begun the riot, stood up from where he had sat during the song, and began to clap. Others followed soon, and shortly a thunderous ovation shook the building. She stood there, listening to the applause of the audience and inwardly thanked the Elf maiden for helping her save their mutual home.  
  
That night, Tabitha and Bertha both came to her room. They talked long into the night about what the girl should do with the rest of her life. And they all agreed that it wasn't waiting tables in an inn.  
  
A few years later, the bard had moved out of the Elfsong Inn and away from Baldur's Gate, she now traveled the length and breadth of the Sword Coast, performing in taverns and Inns, making what coin she could, and loving every minute of it.  
  
* * *  
  
"Okay," Fade interrupted "So you became a Bard. What about the dungeon you were talking about? Or how you came across that rodent?"  
  
Both the Bard and her furry friend glared at Fade. "He's not just a rodent, he's a miniature gargantuan space hamster, and his name is Boo. And I have more to tell."  
  
* * *  
  
She had just finished a performance at the Friendly Arms Inn; she was packing her harp into its case when a man approached her.  
  
"You have a lot of talent." He said.  
  
She continued to pack her instrument being careful not to damage the strings; she may have to re-tune it soon. "Thank you."  
  
"I may have a job for you, if you're interested that is."  
  
The Bard looked up from what she was doing and considered the man in front of her. "Maybe, tell me about it."  
  
The job was easy enough. She was to perform for a nobleman in the Blacklake district of Neverwinter. It wasn't anything she hadn't done before, except that this wasn't just any noble, this man held a direct claim to the throne of Neverwinter. If anything happened to Nasher, the current ruler of Neverwinter, he would most likely become king.  
  
The man who offered the job to her was the nobleman's secretary. He was charged with finding the best to perform at a celebration to commemorate the nobleman's newest acquisition: a jewel that was said to belong to Lord Never, the founder of Neverwinter. She decided that it would be a worthwhile job.  
  
The performance went of without a hitch. She sang mostly, sometimes accompanied by her harp. Some of the nobles present at the party requested a few songs, mostly those about the few heroic nobles in history. She told a few stories that she knew when the occasion seemed appropriate, but the nobles weren't particularly interested in stories; they wanted music while they tried to impress each other with how wealthy they were. To be frank, it made the Bard sick. She rounded out her performance with some juggling, a few gymnastics, the few cantrips she knew. After all that, she was allowed a break, she decided that helping herself to the refreshment table would be just the thing right about now.  
  
While she gathered her various foodstuffs, the nobleman she was working for approached her.  
  
"You performed well, Mistress Bard. I especially enjoyed your singing."  
  
"Thank you, my lord."  
  
"I was wondering if you'd be interested in a more private performance, a few of my fellow lords and ladies will be having a small gathering the evening after next. Would you be interested?"  
  
"Of course, my lord. Should I work out the details with your secretary?"  
  
"Yes, please do. I will give you the rest of the evening off so that you may prepare for your next performance. And feel free to explore the grounds, for the next few days, my home is yours."  
  
"Thank you, m'lord." The Bard bowed to her new patron, which he returned. He then walked off to attend his guests. In the meantime, she decided to search out the secretary to work out the details of her next job.  
  
The night of the performance arrived and the Bard plied her trade once more. She dazzled the nobles with her singing, she amused them with her wit, amazed them with sleight-of-hand, and generally outperformed herself once again. Everything was going her way.  
  
Then, something happened, she wasn't sure what, it all happened so fast. One moment she was enjoying the accolades from her noble audience; the next she was being arrested by the city guard, accused by the secretary of stealing Lord Nasher's jewel. A search of her belongings was made, and sure enough, the jewel was found. Except the Bard recognized it as a counterfeit not worthy for even the poorest of jewel dealers. Too bad no one else did.  
  
Upon seeing this turn of events, the Bard's host was infuriated. He stood himself in front of her, his gaze burning holes in her eyes.  
  
"I invite you into my home, employ you, and this is how you repay my hospitality." His voice did not raise a decibel, but his cold words fell on her and chilled her very soul.  
  
"My Lord, I swear I did not take the stone! I would never steal from you! Someone is setting me up for a fall!" The fear and desperation was plain on her face and in her voice. Yet it only served to anger him more, for he saw it as the skillful acting of a master bard.  
  
"Take her away, let her think on this as she spends her years rotting in the city jail."  
  
As with most prisons, this one was dark and dank. The chirping of rats could be heard amongst the murmuring of other prisoners. She had been a resident of this place for only a few weeks now and already she was fighting to hang on to the remains of her sanity. Between the other prisoners, who ranged from criminally insane to just criminal, and the guards, who insisted on providing each and every individual with 'special' attention. They knew of her past, and more often than not, tormented her by saying, "sing for your supper."  
  
Every moment thought she could spare from surviving this infested worm-pit, she thought of the night she was arrested. f the obvious counterfeit that had been placed in her belongings. She replayed every detail of the time she spent on that estate, of all the people she had seen, trying to figure out who had set her up. And she always came to the same conclusion. She refused to believe, though. In retrospect, it seemed so obvious that she should have seen it coming.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by the screaming of the prisoner in the cell across from her. She looked over to see the guards yanking out the man who had been sentenced to hanging for the murder of some man in the Beggar's Nest district. She paid him no mind and looked away until the guards threw a new prisoner in the cell. She glanced over to see that the new inmate was a large bald man, one of the barbarians that roamed the Frozen North, by the look of him. He seemed to be badly injured and cradling something in his hands.  
  
He looked across the way and saw that she was looking at him and she turned away as if ashamed she had been caught staring.  
  
"Help...me..." He croaked out, "You must... help me..."  
  
"There's nothing I can do to help you, even if I wanted to. The doors are locked and the distance between our cells is too great for me to treat your wounds."  
  
"That is not... the help I need... My... time... in this world...draws... to an end... and... I cannot...leave Boo an... orphan..."  
  
"Boo? I don't see anyone else in there to be an orphan."  
  
The man opened his hands and a small hamster crawled out onto the floor. "Please... this is Boo... take care of him."  
  
"What would I do with a hamster?"  
  
"He's... been a good... friend... Very... special... Please... take care of him..."  
  
"Why me?"  
  
"Boo says... you... have a good heart... that... you should not... be here... He... trusts you..."  
  
Those were the first kind words anyone had said to her since she had gotten to this place. They cut straight through the callous exterior she had put on, and touched her heart.  
  
"I will, I promise I will take care of him."  
  
The man smiled and urged the hamster toward her. It scurried across the corridor and into her cell. There it sat in front of her and seemed to stare straight into her eyes. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she could here a voice, thanking her, promising to help her any way he could.  
  
Across the way, the man took one more look at them, and shut his eyes for the last time.  
  
A month passed, and the Bard discovered she really did have a rapport with the rodent. She had told it her story, up to how she ended up here. It listened as she told it about her life in Baldur's Gate, and how she had come to Neverwinter. She told it about the nobleman's party, and about how there could've been only one person who could have framed her for the crime. In admitting it to the hamster, she admitted it to herself. The noble's secretary, he was the only one with the motive and the opportunity. He had taken the jewel, since he was the only one besides the noble who had access to it, made a cheap forgery, and set her up to take the fall. She was sure she could prove it, but she needed to be outside to do it.  
  
The other prisoners watched her talk to this rodent, and assumed she was finally going insane, but to the Bard, who was as sane as any normal person, talking to Boo was as natural as speaking to any human.  
  
One night, while the rest of the prisoners slept, the Bard was woken up by the hamster, which, much to her surprise, was dragging a key. Come on, he seemed to say, Let's get out of here and clear your name. The Bard took the key from her new friend and said, "All right, let's get moving."  
  
* * *  
  
I managed to escape from the dungeon and get back to the noble's house. When I got there, I found the secretary had left to do some business in Baldur's Gate. I convinced the nobleman to examine the jewel and, sure enough, it was a fake. The nobleman, along with some of his private guard and myself, went to the city, caught the thief about to trade the jewel for a large amount of gold. He was arrested and I was cleared of all charges against me. In fact, right after that is when Knight and I crossed paths."  
  
"Very interesting," Knight remarked. "That may be why that man was waiting to kill you. And I can see why you wouldn't want to be back in a place like this, it's not an experience one would like to repeat."  
  
"Yeah, so many good memories."  
  
"Well, then," Blade broke in, "let's make this stay as short as possible."  
  
Fel looked over at her, "Did you have something in mind?"  
  
"As a matter of fact, I do." She turned to Elfsong, "Would your little friend mind doing me a little favor?"  
  
--Uh-oh, what's going to happen to our small, furry, hero? You'll just have to tune in next time to find out. You may have noticed at this point that I get ideas from a lot of different places. The actual inclusion of Boo was two-fold. 1)The person whom Elfsong is based on is slightly obsessed with small, furry animals, and 2)making that small, furry animal Boo from PC Baldur's Gate came from my reading Megatokyo. Great comic, go check it out(That plug is just for you Piro, keep up the good work) just add a dotcom. 


	8. Escape

Escape!  
  
A small, furry head poked out into the corridor, looked about, and was then followed by a small, furry body. Boo scurried along the wall of the dungeon, moving into the central guard post. On the table, the group's weapons and equipment lay, in the middle of it all, were Blade's lock picks. The problem, the first of many in fact, was getting up the table. Then he had to get the picks, which were roughly twice his size. After that, he had to get back down, back to the cell, and do it all without alerting the guards. They would no doubt squash him into hamster paste if they saw him.  
  
He made his way to the table and was about to start his climb to the top when one of the guards approached, almost stepping on him.  
  
"Hey, Pavel," He said. "Look at all this stuff, swords, daggers, herbs, a harp. Talk about a motley crew."  
  
Boo ignored the human for the moment and began to climb the leg of the table. They hadn't noticed him yet, and he didn't mean for them to. He would deal with getting the picks when he reached the top. Everybody was counting on him and he wasn't about to let them down.  
  
He finally reached the top of the table and poked his nose over the edge. The two were looking away and Elfsong's harp was nearby, this was his chance to start making his way to the picks. He scrambled over the edge and hid under the instrument.  
  
"Well, Bim. We'd better go check the prisoners again. I'll take the east wing, you take the west."  
  
Boo couldn't have wished for a better opportunity, the two guards walked in opposite directions, leaving him free to get the picks. Their backs were turned and they were starting to walk away. Go. He climbed on top of the harp case and looked around for the lock picks.  
  
There they were, Boo scurried across the table, to his target, grabbed them with his front paws, and began to drag them backwards. When he reached the edge of the table, he pushed them of the table, it was a risk, but he wasn't going to be able to climb down with them. They landed with a soft thud but didn't seem to attract attention. He climbed down the table leg, retrieved his bounty, and began dragging them once more across the floor. He was almost back to the cell when he heard, "Hey, what do you think you're doing!" He began pulling even more fiercely on the picks, trying to close the distance and reach his destination before the guard got him.  
  
Fortunately, the guard had to walk in front of his friends' cell. An arm shot out through the bars and grabbed him by the back of his tunic. The arm pulled him head first into the heavy metal bars, hard. The guard's head bounced against the bars and he slumped to the ground. As Boo entered the cell, Knight nodded to him.  
  
He was scooped up by Elfsong and rewarded with a pat on the head. Too bad she didn't have any of those treats he liked so much. Oh well, he'd get one soon enough.  
  
"Alright, he did it!" Blade was ecstatic. Now she might be able to get them out of there.  
  
"Pavel? Pavel, where are you?" She had better work fast. As she went to work on the lock, the others prepared to move out before anything was found amiss. The other guard would not be happy when he found his friend unconscious on the floor.  
  
Elfsong stood by the door and looked down the corridor, "Hurry, he's coming!"  
  
"Give me a minute...." Blade muttered. Sweat began to form as she concentrated on opening the lock. This thing was a nightmare that even she wasn't sure could be picked. A little to the left... now in a little... little more to the right, too far... push it all the way in... give it a twist... With a soft clunk accentuated by the snap of the pick, the lock opened. Blade hurriedly swung open the door and the others grabbed the unconscious guard and hauled him into the cell, just as his friend got close enough to see down the corridor.  
  
"Pavel?" The guard called again. He began walking down the corridor, looking for his friend. When he passed their cell door, they swung it open again and Knight caught him in a chokehold and dragged him into the cell. He threw him to floor, placed his knee on the guard's back and grabbed his head.  
  
"If you don't want me to break your neck, tell me where Jarra is."  
  
"He's coming down soon, he wanted to execute you himself," the guard groaned.  
  
"Thanks," Knight said, then he slammed his head against the ground, knocking him out as well.  
  
"Wow, did you have to be so rough with him?" Blade asked. Everyone looked at the two unconscious forms lying on the ground.  
  
"Didn't have time to play nice. Okay, here's the plan: Fel, Elfsong, you two are about the same height as the guards. Take their uniforms and their positions. They're heavier than the two of you so tray and look big. The rest of us will hide the bodies and get our stuff back. When Jarra comes down, we'll get him by surprise, try to leave him alive and conscious. We still need him."  
  
"Yeah, Knight," Fade scolded. "That goes for you too."  
  
"Okay, let's do it!"  
  
They had just finished preparing when Jarra entered the dungeon. Fel, and Elfsong, now in their guard costumes stuffed with hay to make them look bigger, snapped to attention as he walked by and then followed behind him. He stopped in front of the cell, "So, the time has come for you to die. Open the door."  
  
Fel swung it open as Jarra drew his blade, a very sharp-looking bastard sword.  
  
Knight walked out of the shadows, his own sword drawn and ready, "Sorry, but I'm terribly allergic to death."  
  
"Ah, so you have your sword back, this will be fun."  
  
"For all of us. NOW!"  
  
From their hiding places on either side of the door, Blade and Fade brought their weapons to bear on Jarra, behind him, Elfsong and Fel shut the door and made ready to fight as well.  
  
"Drop your sword." They all said in unison. Jarra's blade slowly dropped from his hand. Knight walked up to him and dug the point of his long sword into Jarra's throat.  
  
"Now you're going to tell us everything we want to know, or you're going to have another hole to breathe through."  
  
"Ha! You don't frighten me."  
  
"Alright," He looked at his companions. "I need a wheel of cheese and a three-inch piece of cloth." Jarra blanched at that, but kept his composure.  
  
"Wait, Knight," Elfsong interrupted, "I've got at better idea..."  
  
Jarra's screams echoed through the dungeon, shaking the wall, sounding as a man who found himself damned  
  
"STOP IT! I CAN'T TAKE ANYMORE! IT'S... TOO...CUTE! RRRAAAAAGGGHHHH!"  
  
"Hold off, Boo." Elfsong said to her companion. "I think he's ready to talk."  
  
Jarra crumbled to the floor, his hands clutching his head and knees shuddering, he retched on the ground and said, "Please, I'll tell you what you want to know. Just keep that thing away from me, I can't stand so much cuteness."  
  
"Well done, Boo." Elfsong gave her little friend a hamster treat.  
  
He was happy to be of service.  
  
--Everybody likes Boo. 


	9. Seeing Through the Illusion

Seeing Through The Illusion  
  
Once he was properly 'persuaded' by Boo, Jarra was most accommodating. He explained that no one really knew where Damian was except his most trusted henchman, Dante. The only one who knew where Dante was was his assistant Virgo. And, of course, the only person who knew where Virgo was was Jarra.  
  
He was more than willing to speak.  
  
Apparently, Virgo had just finished a raid and was returning to his camp. Jarra knew exactly where it was and would be more than happy to take them to the camp on two conditions: One, they don't kill him, and two, they keep the Bard's rodent away from him.  
  
It wasn't long before they found themselves marching through the Coldwood, searching for Virgo's camp. Jarra was leading them, his hands tied behind his back by a rope held by Fel. He complained about his situation at first, which was put to a stop when Blade gave him a little 'memento' across his face. The Blow had actually bruised somewhat, leaving a palm shaped black mark on his face. The others were actually surprised that was all the injury he suffered, his jaw should've been dislocated.  
  
After traveling almost halfway into the forest, Jarra spoke. "Okay, we're near the camp. I kept my end of the deal, now you keep yours." He proffered his bound hands. The adventurers looked at each other, Knight nodded, drew his sword and walked toward Jarra. Jarra realized that a sword wasn't a very good tool to cut ropes with, "H-hey, you said you would let me live if I helped you!"  
  
"I did, didn't I," the last thing Jarra saw was Knight's sword arm whipping around, he felt something hit his head and the world turned black.  
  
"There, I let you live," Knight said to the unconscious form of Jarra. He turned to his companions and said, "Alright, we need to plan our assault. Blade, get as close to the camp as you can unseen and gather as much information as you can. Let's tie this idiot up, no sense in repeating history. We'll wait for you here, Blade, when you get back we can start the party."  
  
* * *  
  
Blade returned with her report, it would be a challenging fight. They all agreed it would have to be a straight-up fight. Even Blade, with her nigh- invisible sneaking skills, had almost been discovered three separate times. The problem was that Virgo basically had a small army with him. Even at their best, there was no way short of a miracle they could take on those odds. They needed to create some sort of distraction. Fortunately, there was one in the party that had considerable expertise in this area.  
  
"So we need an illusion," Fade pondered the situation. "What kind of illusion? I suppose another army would be enough to get their attention, but that would be way too much for me, or any other illusionist for that matter."  
  
"I've got an idea," Elfsong interrupted her train of thought. "What about a scout party from the place they just raided? That would only be two or three people. Then you could project the sounds of a larger group."  
  
"That would work, in fact, I think I could refine that idea a little bit. Plus, I could cover the camp in a fog, that would make it harder for them to see us. If you watch me cast the illusion, I could adjust it so that you could see right through it. That should keep them off their guard and give us an edge."  
  
"You haven't done that illusion for awhile, the fog," Blade remarked. "Not since that last shipment of yours, remember that?"  
  
"Yeah, that was when I first met the two of you..."  
  
* * *  
  
"Eight priceless works of art. That's what these are." The man beamed at the mage as if his child had just won first prize at the fair. Somehow, she doubted the man's claims. To her, the eight 'pieces' looked like cylinders of varying sizes and colors. They seemed to be made of several different materials and they all looked rather ordinary. Still, she didn't choose her clients, and she was being well paid, and so long she was, she didn't question her client's tastes in chunks of stone.  
  
Her ferry service between various cities along the Sword Coast was booming, mostly because she hadn't yet lost a cargo to the bandits and monsters that littered the trails. Her talents as an illusionist especially helped in her line of work. More often than not, she could sneak past her would-be raiders, sometimes right under their noses.  
  
She wasn't a complete specialist, though. She knew enough about the other schools of magic that, when push came to shove, she could hold her own. A band of gnolls down south learned that lesson the hard way.  
  
This trip had implications that made her nervous, though. News had reached the city that a few well-armed caravans had been attacked. All but one was able to repel the invaders, but it meant that bandits were starting to get brave. She wondered if it was some sign of things to come.  
  
From her starting point here in Beregost, she was to transport the pieces north to the Friendly Arms Inn. There, her client's buyer will take care of transportation to wherever the final destination was. She pulled a piece of parchment from her wagon, checked to make sure it was the right contract, and handed it to her client.  
  
The man accepted and scanned the document, as he did, the mage studied him. Strange... He should've read the price by now... She admitted 10,000 gold pieces was a steep price, but with eight pieces and the amount of security he demanded for his art, she thought it was a fair price. She wondered what he was really up to. The man nodded and then used the quill she offered to sign the document. She grew even more suspicious, she had expected him to at least whine about something in the contract. While she thought it was fair, it did place some heavy penalties on him should he back out, hire someone to raid the cargo, or otherwise present a detriment to he business. It also held him accountable to any damages incurred by weather, monster, bandit, magic, extra-planar creatures (including powerful monks), and pretty much anything else she could think of while his cargo was under her care.  
  
So, in short, if anything out of the ordinary happened, he was screwed.  
  
Not that she intended to let anything happen that is. She may be exacting in her business propositions, she was still an honest person.  
  
She decided that it may be prudent to ask for half up front, and to her surprise, he paid it, out of his pocket right there. 5,000 gold pieces counted, measured, and weighed. Now she was really suspicious, that may even be too soft a word. But, with her signature right there next to his, she was committed. With no other choice, she climbed up into her wagon, crossed her fingers, and flicked the reigns. She looked back at her cargo and hoped it would be worth it.  
  
The wagon pulled out of the Beregost and turned north to the Friendly Arms Inn where she would hand over her cargo to the person who would take it to her final destination, somewhere in the Frozen North by the sound of it.  
  
The unchanging landscape rolling by put the mage into a trance, like it always did. She thought of the usual things, why she was doing this, about the place she was going. She was starting to nod off; she wasn't particularly worried about falling asleep. She was a fairly light sleeper and the horses would wake her if anything were amiss. Not that she needed the warning.  
  
A band of humans burst out of the nearby brush, screaming at the top of their lungs and trying to confuse her wagon team. Pulling hard on the reigns to try and steady the panicking horses, she used her other hand to search through her pockets for the appropriate spell scroll.  
  
"Give us your cargo, woman, and we may let you live!" One of the bandits shouted at her. They closed in around the wagon, being careful no to get crushed by the falling hooves of the horses. The mage's fingers found one particular scroll whose seal featured a billowing cloud with a person trapped inside. Finally, she thought.  
  
She pulled the scroll free of her robes and popped the seal, she may not actually be able to remember the details of the spell, but she knew the rest of it well enough, after all, it was one of her favorites, a wall of fog. With that, she should be able to sneak away safely.  
  
She gave the bandits a knowing smile as she cast, she looked straight at the man who had shouted at her a moment ago, "Goodbye."  
  
An orb of light appeared before the mage and began to spill out fog. In a matter of moments, the area was covered in a magical fog that only her gaze could pierce. She guided her wagon carefully through the ground-cloud, trying to keep the bandits from seeing her escape.  
  
She made it safely out of the fog and looked back to see her handiwork. All of the bandits were still groping about in the fog, trying to find her.  
  
At least, all but one.  
  
One bandit had managed to grab hold of her wagon and let her guide him out. Once free of the cloud, he let go and called to his mates, "This way fella's, follow my voice!" The bandits began to make their way out of the masking fog. She decided that now was a good time to make a speedy exit. The wagon soon stopped with a jolt, the bandit who had hitched a ride with her had stuck a thick pole in the spokes of her wheels, effectively halting her escape.  
  
The bandits surrounded the wagon once more, and the mage freed her staff and prepared to crack skulls. The odds didn't look good to her, but she had little choice. One of the bandits charged forward, sword rising to strike her. Her staff came down and knocked him back with a sound thump on the head. Another bandit joined the fray, only to receive the same treatment. More and more surged forward to have their turn at her. The staff became a blur in her hands as the forms flowed from her mind to her body. Running Down the Mountain became Sweeping Maiden, which flowed into Breaking Reeds. Despite her mastery of her weapon, though, the odds soon swung the fight against her, there were simply too many. They managed to get a couple lucky strikes in, blood flowed freely from a cut across her stomach and a dark bruise marred her cheek. She knew that she would receive worse soon. She couldn't keep this up forever.  
  
One bandit's blade found it's way through her defenses and was about to cleave her skull in two when a fast-moving blur tackled him hard. The bandit lay unconscious on the ground; unfortunately, his friends were still standing and trying to kill her. With all her attention focused on keeping steel off-target, she didn't quite notice the man in a blue cloak sneak up behind another of the bandits and club him over the head with the pommel of his sword.  
  
One of the bandit's friends did, however, and broke off to face this new threat. It was then that the mage noticed the newcomers. The fighter faced off and the rogue sneaking in. She had help, and she dove into her fight with renewed vigor.  
  
The thief snuck along the side of the wagon while everyone was distracted. Only two bandits remained at the wagon. One of them was about to get to know her sword, intimately. She stole forward as quietly as she could and readied to make her attack.  
  
The only downside to her plan was that, from his vantage point in front of the fighter, the bandit could see her clearly. The time to strike was now. He shouted, "Look out!" to his companion and charged at the man in blue, raising his sword to thrust at his head.  
  
The bandit about to receive a blade in his back heard his companion's warning, and almost moved too late. The thief's blade didn't enter his back as she had planned, but did open a large gash. The bandit screamed in pain and shifted his focus from the mage to this new threat.  
  
The mage was doing a little better now, without an entire band trying to kill her, she could deal with her opponent more effectively. She drove him back far enough that she was able to jump down off the wagon and face him on equal footing. Attacks came swiftly from both, but she knew that she had the upper hand.  
  
His blade came down and behind him to block yet another attack from the bandit. His opponent was skilled in the use of his weapon but the attacks were still rudimentary, relying more on power than finesse. And ferocity. The attacks came quickly but soon, the bandit made his mistake, a fierce thrust that should have been a feint. The fighter seized the opportunity, spinning right by the attack; he shoved the blade of his sword under his arm, through his cloak, and into the bandit. This fight was over.  
  
The thief wasn't doing as well, her skills leaned more toward stealth then straight-up combat. It helped that her opponent was wounded and tiring rapidly, but she knew that if she let on that she was losing, it would be over. Luckily, she had one more trick up her sleeve, literally.  
  
A small paper ball rolled into her hand and she threw it in her opponent's face. It burst open and covered his face with a powder that burned his eyes and skin. It wasn't long until the pain became so great he blacked out.  
  
"And stay down," she said.  
  
The mage had the easiest time of it. With only one opponent to deal with now, she could free a hand to prepare a spell. And spell she did, for when she thrust her empty hand at her opponent, bright colors sprayed and stunned him long enough to give the man one solid blow to the head. The man collapsed to the ground, unconscious.  
  
She looked around to find her saviors and found the fighter in blue kneeling over one of the bandits, doing something to him while the thief stood over and watched. As she approached, she saw that he was treating the bandit's wound, speaking to him.  
  
"Your friends will wake up soon. When they do, make sure they take you to the nearest town for better treatment. You've lost a lot of blood, so stay still until they move you." The fighter reached into a pouch and produced a small vile, "Here, if you find yourself growing tired or numb, drink this. It will help, but it isn't potent enough to heal your wounds. Find a skilled Healer as soon as you can."  
  
With that, he stood up and looked at the mage. He regarded her with his trained eye and, apparently, decided something.  
  
"These men wouldn't have attack one mage unless you were carrying something valuable."  
  
She thought about her cargo, those cylinders, and replied, "Either they were mistaken, or there is more to my cargo then I was led to believe."  
  
The thief, who had snuck away and was now examining the cylinders, called to them, "I'd go with more to this stuff that you thought."  
  
The mage was surprised by the thief's skills but none the less ran over to her wagon shouting, "Get down from there! I don't know who you two are, for all I know you could just be more bandits after my cargo!" When she looked to check on her cargo, though, she was amazed by what she saw. The cylinders were actually containers, and inside each lay powerful artifacts from an age long past. She had read of these and a lump of fear rose in her throat. "These are the last remaining pieces of a culture that died out millennia ago! What are they doing here?"  
  
The fighter stepped forward to examine the items; "Could it be that they wanted you to transfer them to a place better suited for research?"  
  
"I suppose that would explain the lengths my client took to ensure their safety."  
  
"We'd better hurry, the longer we stay here, the more likely we are to be attacked again." The three got the wagon moving on it's way to the Friendly Arms Inn.  
  
* * *  
  
"I decided to trust them after that, and Knight recruited me to help with one of his crazy quests he's always on."  
  
Fel stood from where she had laid back on a thick patch of grass, "A wonderful tale, can we get on with this?"  
  
Fade turned to the enemy camp, and began to walk. As she walked, with her new friends following behind, she searched through her pockets for a familiar scroll, with a familiar seal, that would cast a familiar spell.  
  
--I'm bored so I'm gonna ramble on about some of my influences for this story. Well, just in general really. This started off as some short stories I wrote for my friends back in high school since I didn't wanna do the mainstream "write a stupid paragraph and slap your signature beneath it" deal that everybody else was doing. I wanted to do something memorable. They made me sign the yearbooks themselves anyways but sometime later I decided to continue on where the short stories left off. As far as other influences, I watch a lot of movies, mostly sci-fi. I listen to a lot of alternative rock (WOO! WEEZER!) and stuff like that. You guys should go through the stories and try and find all the little references and stuff I toss in there. Thanks to all my reviewers, it's nice to be appreciated by complete strangers. Special thanks to the Elven Romantic who gave me the most flattering compliment a writer can get in comparing me to J.K. Rowling (Even though I'm not a big fan of Harry Potter) and J.R.R. Tolkien (whom I'm a big fan of. Frodo lives!) Later days. 


	10. KnockDown DragOut War

Knock-down Drag-out War  
  
The raiding party wasn't as large as it probably should have been, only twenty or thirty people instead of the small army that they thought was there. A few tents were scattered about, but most of the raiders had spread bedrolls near the large bonfire that sent sparks flying high into the air. The men themselves all looked like your typical sacks of meat, big, filthy, and more stupid than anything else. Fade's illusions should work wonders.  
  
They all acted like the raid had gone well indeed, gold was scattered about as men distributed it without care. Fine rugs and clothes, anything that wasn't nailed down in the village, and from the looks of it, that included people too. Men, women, and children sat in a large group, chained together to be sold as slaves. One of the raiders walked among them, he seemed to be examining female prisoners, which only meant one thing.  
  
Hidden behind the trees surrounding the camp, Knight and his companions watched all this, and were disgusted by it. Knight turned his back to the tree and looked over at the mage, "Are you ready fell?" The mage nodded, "I'll tell you when to cast the spell." He looked back at the camp, and he focused on the raider walking among the prisoners, he wanted to get him frustrated and angry. And if he didn't leave with the others, he wouldn't leave at all.  
  
The raider suddenly stopped, bent over, and hauled a struggling woman to her feet.  
  
"Now, Fade!"  
  
The mage stepped forward and began her spell, a moment later, she screamed and on the other side of the camp, a thousand voices roared back, thousands of voices in the trees, the retaliating village people who didn't exist.  
  
Fade spoke and a voice echoed her words, "Give me back my wife!"  
  
She spoke again, and another voice, "Give me back my children!"  
  
And another voice, "Give us back everything you stile from us or die!"  
  
With the last voice, Fade began another spell, and a dense fog seeped out from the trees. Soon, the entire camp was enveloped, and only the five companions, who knew it was an illusion, could see through it.  
  
The raiders, though, didn't have a clue, and some panicked and ran in to the forest. The odds were slightly more favorable.  
  
"Okay," Knight said to the others, "let's go dance."  
  
Knight, Blade, Fel, and Elfsong waded into the camp while Fade concentrated on maintaining her illusion.  
  
The first one the raiders saw was Knight, and three of them tried to rush him.  
  
"Stay back," he cried at them. "I'm warning you!" The men ignored him and continued forward, and Knight flowed into the fight, attacking with the Tiger Claws pattern and grimaced when he felt the blade bite into flesh. After the first attack, he was forced to go on the defensive as both the remaining men attack at once. He glanced around to see if his companions were doing okay.  
  
Fel was the first he saw, she was full out running to her prey, As she ran, black fur began to cover her body and great claws extended from her fingers. With a scream that was half cat and half human, she leaped forward and bounded toward her opponent on all fours. She was soon on her prey and attacking with fangs and claws, almost with reckless abandon.  
  
One of the raiders tried to catch Knight off guard by feinting at his head, then swinging at his kidneys. Knight rewarded him for his troubles by swatting the sword aside and taking his hand off at the wrist. No sooner was one taken out of the fight then another took his place and Knight was defending himself once more.  
  
This time, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He saw that daggers imbedded themselves in two of the raiders, when he looked back, he saw Elfsong standing not far away. As another raider ran at her, she made a gesture and a silver streak raced toward the man, depositing a dagger in the man's chest. A raider managed to get the drop on her, and discovered that her weapons didn't need to be thrown to be lethal.  
  
Knight brought his foot up into one of his opponents gut and then brought the pommel of his sword down on his head as he doubled over. Knight grunted as yet another enemy joined the attack and he started losing ground once again. A scream behind him announced another raider coming in from behind. What was he going to do? If he turned to defend himself from the attack, the two he faced now would cut him to pieces.  
  
A blur moved past him and another scream issued forth. This one cut off as Blade's short sword brought the would-be backstabber down. She ran past him to find another enemy to sneak up on, as she did she tossed a grin at Knight and flashed him a thumbs-up at him. He only grunted as he pushed back one of his opponent's swords and drove his fist into the face of the other, dropping him from the fight as well.  
  
This time, no new enemy could rush right in, and he was given a few moments with only one care. As the man thrust his blade out at him, Knight sidestepped and stuck his foot out. The man managed to keep his feet and he whipped his sword around backhand. Knight blocked the attack and found himself facing the way he had come in.  
  
He looked up at Fade to see how she was holding up. Sweat beaded on her forehead and ran down her face as she fought her own battle to maintain the illusory fog. Her eyes were clenched shut as she concentrated and she were began to sway as the fight began taking its toll. If she kept this up much longer, she was going to pass out.  
  
Knight had had enough of his game with the raider in front of him; it was time for someone else to defend themselves. He began to sweep his sword in intricate patterns and each time, the razor-sharp edge came closer and closer to the man's skin. With another swing, horizontally and at the man's neck, Knight kicked the man in the chest while his sword was away. He quickly followed up with a fist in the raider's face, then grabbed the man's head and smashed it into his knee.  
  
As he began to run after a new enemy, he glanced back over his shoulder at Fade, just in time to see her collapse in exhaustion. As soon as she did, the fog disappeared, and the situation became a little more dire. Now, all of Virgo's forces knew what the game was, and they were more than willing to play.  
  
Having dispatched the last of the initial resistance, the four remaining heroes stood together to face the returning forces. Knight looked at his companions and shook his head. It did not look good.  
  
To make matters worse, a storm broke and raindrops splattered the four. They all made a collective decision and began forward. As they closed the distance, they began to run faster, they were moving at a dead run when they were almost on top of the enemy. A lightning bolt flashed, and with the power of the rumbling thunder, they carved into the mass of troops. Swords, daggers, fangs, and claws tore into the opposition, cutting swathes through their lines. They fought better than they ever had before; they fought for their lives.  
  
After bringing down one more enemy, Knight looked around for his companions, the enemies rank was getting thin so it was fairly easy to find them. There was Elfsong, looking more like a tornado with her daggers than a woman. Fel, still a were-cat, was mercilessly tearing men apart with her powerful claws. Blade had been drawn out of the shadows and was now engaged in a straight-up fight, which she seemed to be winning, except for the man who jumped down from an overhead tree branch. Knight bent low and his arm flicked out, sending his own dagger straight at the raider, catching him in the middle of his head and bringing him down. Blade looked at Knight who offered his own thumbs-up and then launched himself at another foe.  
  
After what seemed an eternity, the job was done. Virgo's forces either fled to the forces, or lay on the ground converting into worm food. Knight watched the retreating forces go, holding his arm where someone had managed to give him a deep gash. Blood flowed freely, but that was the least of his worries. He walked off to confront Virgo.  
  
Blade was ecstatic. They had just faced what seemed impossible odds and had come out on top. And apart from a few bruises that would leave her sore, she was alright. She looked around for her friends and saw Fade sitting on the ground where she had passed out, holding her head. Blade had a few potions to help with the headache and went to help her friend.  
  
Elfsong walked around the battlefield, retrieving her weapons, cleaning the blood from them, and returning them to their hiding places. She was thinking about how to turn this whole battle into an epic ballad. There was one nice thing about this whole adventure business she decided as she bent to pick up her last dagger.  
  
The scent of blood drenched the air, assaulting her sensitive nose, and the beast hungered for more. She tried to stop it, tried to control it, tried to reason with it, but it ignored her. The beast had been allowed control, and it wasn't going to give itself up without a fight. It stalked through the trees, silently, and she chased after it. She had wrestled it to the ground before and she would do it again, she had to. The beast stopped suddenly, and with its cat-like reflexes, sprung off in a different direction, but she had seen the muscles tense and changed her path as well. The beast stopped again, this time it dropped to the earth; ears back and ready to pounce, she looked through the eyes they shared and saw what it meant to do. She had to hurry, new friendships counted on her gaining control.  
  
Elfsong straightened and as she began to turn, something heavy collided with her and knocked her to the ground. She managed to roll over and found herself staring up at the snarling were-cat Fel. A scream caught in her throat as the feline raised a powerful paw to swipe at her head, and then she flew off as if something hit her with the strength of a charging bull. Fel rolled on the ground clawed hands clutching her head as she screamed her terrible woman/beast scream and her body seized spasmodically.  
  
She had the beast by its throat, and it beat back at her with its' paws. With every hit she felt colder, as if its' claws were draining her life force. She knew as well that with every moment, the beast was feeling the same drain. All she could do was hold on and hope she would survive as the forces of nature and chaos waged their terrible war within the boundaries of her mind, ripping at hers and the beasts beings.  
  
Elfsong sat in shock for a moment and rushed to the were-cat's side. She wasn't sure what had happened, but she knew it was not Fel's fault and that she needed to help her friend.  
  
Knight burst into the commander's tent to confront Virgo. The room it created was sparse, a bedroll on one side with a flat-lidded chest that had papers scattered across it. Standing against the back, with nowhere to run, was Virgo. He looked at the commander in shock for a moment, but there could be no mistake about it. The cold-hearted killer, the one responsible for the massacre of countless people, was a woman.  
  
She glared at the hero, judging him as surely as he judged her. "What are you going to do with me now, hmm? Kill me like you did my men?" Her gaze pierced straight into Knight, skewering him with hatred like daggers. "Or perhaps you had other things in mind?"  
  
Knight looked down at the bloodied weapon grasped in his hand, when he looked back up his own eyes were as hard as stone.  
  
"No, there has been enough blood spilled on the ground today. And I want nothing more from you than information."  
  
She seemed surprised at first. She wasn't a hideous woman, in fact, quite the opposite. Many men had joined her command just to be near a woman of her beauty, and she was so sure that he was going to try something. After all, he was only a man. But he just stood there, waiting for her to speak. She needed to find out exactly what he wanted, and then she needed to get out of there. An evil plan formed in her mind. After all, he was only a man.  
  
As suddenly as a lightning bolt, her entire demeanor changed. She began to walk, almost slinking, to the adventurer and said, "Oh, I'm sure we could work out some sort of arrangement. What is it you want?"  
  
She was close now, close enough for him to smell the wildflowers of her perfume. He knew what she was trying to do, and it made him nervous. For some reason, he couldn't get his legs to move him away.  
  
"I, uh, I need to know where Virgil is... Y-you're the only one who, uh, can tell me." Something sparkled in her eyes and she brought a hand up to caress his face.  
  
"Who cares about him, I want to know more about you. Why do you want him so badly?" Despite the rough calluses on her hands from years of handling a sword, her touch was smooth, and Knight squeezed the wound on his arm to jolt his mind.  
  
"Urg. I need to find his boss. I have a few things I need to discuss with him." Wow, when did her eyes become bottomless pools?  
  
"Why don't you discuss them with me? I'm sure I can help you." The hand on his face had moved to the back of his head, and began pulling his face down to hers, while the other arm wrapped around his waist and forced him closer.  
  
Then, when it almost seemed she had won, Fel's snarl/scream ripped through the air like a banshee's howl. Knight's hands shot up and pushed her away from him and her spell was broken. He turned instinctively to see what had happened and heard a cloth ripping and shuffling behind him. He turned back and saw Virgo slipping through a hole she cut in the tent cloth.  
  
Knight cursed at his stupidity and ran out the entrance of the tent. He saw Elfsong tending to Fel who seemed to be slowly and painfully reverting back to human form. He ran around the tent to the back and watched Virgo disappear into the forest.  
  
Knight clenched the hilt of his sword until his knuckles turned white and the pain in his arm threatened to overwhelm him. How could she have been able to turn him into a consummate idiot so quickly? Now she might be able to warn Virgil that they were coming. He cleaned his sword on the grass and returned it to his sheath. He held his cut, trying to stop the flow of blood again and turned to check his friends. They still might be able to track her.  
  
If they couldn't, the situation might get bad. 


	11. Matters of Conscience

Matters of Conscience  
  
Fade was fine, apart from a splitting headache and exhaustion from maintaining her spell for so long. Fel looked like she would be all right, she was drenched with sweat when she finally reverted back from her cat- form. She apologized profusely to Elfsong for attacking and then became a little distant. It was almost as if she was afraid they would make her leave, or maybe she feared attacking them again.  
  
At any rate, with Fel's help they were able to pick up Virgo's trail, it wasn't particularly hard to do, it seemed she was more concerned with getting away than making a stealthy retreat. Plus Fel had a superior sense of smell, she could tell them stories every time her nose pulled at the air.  
  
"She tripped here, her scent has dirt mixed in it. She reeks of frustration and anger. I don't think she knows we're following her, but she's not taking any chances. This way." She led them further into the forest, following the trail of smells, and broken plants that Virgo left behind. She stopped and sniffed at the air, "She's calming down now, coming off the adrenaline and getting tired. She'll probably stop to rest soon."  
  
Knight looked at his friends, they were all breathing heavily and looked as tired as he felt. "We should probably do the same. How much ground have we gained, Fel?"  
  
"A good amount. She still has a bit of a lead on us, but even if she keeps going all nigh, we could probably overtake her tomorrow. She's smells pretty tired though, if she doesn't stop soon, she'll stop anyway."  
  
"Good, let's make camp."  
  
It wasn't long until they had a fire cooking food, and the five sat around it, watching the flames dance and tending to their injuries. While they treated cuts and bruises, stitched some and bandaged others, and tried to keep the rabbits they had caught from burning, they talked about things that they had done, or planned to do. They chatted about the weather, the closeness of the trees, and the poor quality of the food that they had bought when they set out.  
  
Knight simply sat and watched his friends talk amongst themselves, not really listening to the conversations. His thoughts kept drifting back to the battle that day. He stood up and walked out of the warm light of the campfire and into the cold dark of the forest. The others saw him get up and go, obviously bothered by something.  
  
Fel turned back to the fire, "What's up with him?" The others shrugged; Knight wasn't the most expressive of people.  
  
"I haven't seen him like this, ever I think," Blade remarked. "I mean, he's sunk into himself before, but this is the worse I think."  
  
Elfsong worked on patching her cloak, "Maybe one of us should go and talk to him, try and figure out what's wrong." All eyes turned on Blade.  
  
"What, me?"  
  
"Why not? You've known him the longest, not only do you know him better than the rest of us, but he may feel more comfortable talking to you."  
  
"But I don't know what to say to him!"  
  
"You probably don't need to say anything. And if you do, you'll probably know what to say. You're not getting out of this."  
  
Blade sighed and stood up, popping her back, "Yeah, I kind of figured that." She bent down and pulled a piece of meat off the spit and popped it in her mouth. "Ho-o-ot!" she said as she walked away. The other three went back to their conversations, although it drifted back and forth from what might have been bothering their friend.  
  
He stood there, back against a tree, looking up at then night sky. He had pulled his hood over his face, hiding it in shadow. It was almost eerie, a hole of black where his face should have been. His shoulders slumped heavily and one hand held his arm where he had been hurt earlier.  
  
As Blade came closer, she noticed that something that wasn't a tree stuck out of the ground in front of Knight. She realized that it was his sword, Requiem.  
  
"It looks brave, even noble, doesn't it?" Knight's head turned toward Blade and then shifted to his sword. A hand pulled back his hood and exposed his face to the moonlight. Blade nodded and stood next to him, looking down at the sword, blade shining in the moonlight. "I know it's true heart, though. A cruel, merciless, sadistic killer that revels in death, only truly happy when bathed in the blood of men.  
  
"I hate it with a passion."  
  
Blade looked at her old friend, genuine concern plain on her face, "How can you say that? The sword is just a tool; it has no life beyond what you give it. And I know you are none of those things."  
  
"I'm not? How many men died by my hand today? How many more will? How many don't need to? I cannot deny the thrill and satisfaction I felt in battle, the satisfaction when my blade killed another human. How can you say I myself am not evil?"  
  
She stood on the other side of the sword from Knight, "You know what I see when I look at this sword? I see determination and compassion. I heard what you yelled at those men, I saw your face when another man fell to your sword. You have a good heart, and a determination not to let evil hurt others. If that is not good, I don't know what is."  
  
Knight's hand tightened on his arm. "I hate this life Blade, but it won't let me go. I've tried countless times to give up my sword and live a peaceful life, but it's like this sword is a ghost, hundreds of ghosts, hovering by my ear and singing its dirge." Knight pulled his hand away from his arm, blood stained his skin, "I take men's lives, and this is what I take in return. Not a fair trade if you ask me."  
  
Blade looked at Knight's hand and realized what he had been holding, "My god, I thought you said you were fine!" She looked at his arm, "This hasn't been treated at all! Do you want to die from infection?" She pulled a bandage out of her small healing kit and, none to gently, began to tend his wound. "I don't know about whatever it is you think you owe the dead, but those men attacked of their own free will and were prepared to accept the consequences. Yes, we've all killed, and that's not something to be proud of. But think of all the people we've saved. Not just the ones that were there, but also all the others that would have been hurt if we hadn't ended it there. You are doing a good thing." She tied off the dressing and stood in front of him. "Despite all the bad that happens, there's enough good that I can't think of anything I 'd rather be doing, or anyone I'd rather be doing it with then what you and I, and Fade, and Fel, and Elfsong are doing right now. And if I had the chance, I would do nothing different."  
  
Knight stood silent for a moment, and then fell forward and wept on Blade's shoulder, a tear for every man who died, and two for all who lived. Blade let him cry as long as he liked, patting his back and offering comfort and encouragement. And when he straightened, his eyes were dry and a smile appeared. "Thank you, Blade. I'm truly favored to have you as a friend."  
  
She smiled back at him, "And I'll always be your friend, and I'll always be there to help." She started to walk back to the camp, but stopped and turned, "Are you coming? Or are you going to stay out here with the gibberlings?"  
  
Knight nodded and looked down at his sword again, this time; he didn't see an instrument of evil and destruction, but as a friend to those who had none.  
  
He grabbed the hilt, pulled it free from the ground, and with a twirl, sheathed it. He and Blade walked back to the camp together, and Knight thought to himself, "Maybe I can do this after all."  
  
--I didn't leave a note last time so I'll leave one now. If you haven't noticed by now, I enjoy prattling on about my creations and have no reservations to do so endlessly. It becomes a real struggle to keep these little notes from turning into full-fledged rants. But that's not really what I wanted to talk about this time. What I wanted to talk about is the emotional impact of what I write, more specifically on me. The last chapter, Knock-Down Drag-Out War, while not only being named after a Weezer song, was also the first actual battle I've written and not a little fracas. And I must say, I felt rather guilty about killing so many without reason. So, to alleviate my guilt, I wrote the preceding. I feel every story should have this kinda character development anyway. Someone once told me they thought it was cliché, but then I realized that why they're clichés. Because they're used a lot and are generally true. So here it is in it's all it's cliché, emotional glory. Elven Romantic is probably fairly happy at about this point in the story too, since this chapter leans more toward the kind of story she likes. And now to do a rant check on this author's note. * Rolls d20+2d8 * Failure! 'Till next time peeps. 


	12. Don't Look Down

Don't Look Down  
  
The night passed quickly and the five awoke refreshed set off through the forest once more tracking Virgo. They tore through the underbrush, jumping over roots and ducking under tree branches. Whenever they came to a thick tangle that they couldn't push through, Knight's sword opened the path. They followed Fel's nose as she tracked Virgo by her scent. Suddenly, Fel stopped the group and signaled them to be silent. She walked up to a tree and pointed up. Virgo had been chased up a tree. Knight nodded took off his heavy breastplate, then jumped up and began climbing the tree branch by branch, the others followed behind. About halfway up, Knight saw movement in the branches up and a little ways away. He stopped and squinted through the leave, he thought he could see a human form. He looked down at his companions and pointed shielding his hand from the leafy figure. They all looked in the direction he pointed; everyone shrugged, except for Fel, who nodded. Suspicions confirmed, Knight began to climb once more, the next time he stopped, he pointed, first at one of them, and then at a spot on the tree until they surrounded the form of Virgo crouched on a tree branch. She knew they were there, and that they had her cut off, but she held herself like she was standing on the ground surrounded by her army instead of 50 feet up a tree. Knight climbed up to a branch that grew out parallel to the one Virgo was on; he stood on the branch, gripping a branch that ran above his head to keep his balance.  
  
Virgo stood proudly, being careful not to lose her balance and fall. Her hair was a tangled mess, with leaves and twigs stuck in it. Her face and hands were smudged with dirt, and small tears in her clothes showed where she had caught them on the forest's foliage as she tore through on her flight. She looked tired and not particularly happy to see them. "So you found me. Wonderful. Now what are you going to do with me, kill me?" Knight shook his head, "I said before that I wouldn't and I hold to that. I just want to know where Virgil is." "Why do you want Virgil?" "I don't really want Virgil, I want Damian." Virgo appeared shocked to hear that name, "Damian? You mean to tell me that Virgil is involved with that man?" "You seem to know something about him." "Only that he is a monster. My men weren't the kindest of people, but the things that one man has done make them look like the bloody Royal Guard!" "And I doubt you've heard a fraction of what he's done." "Of course I haven't. I didn't even want to hear what I did. I've been purposefully avoiding the subject of that man. Burn the Fates, man, I may be a criminal but I'm not stupid!" "Then tell me where Virgil is, he has the information I need." Virgo stood for a moment and contemplated the situation. Did she really want to give Virgil up? She thought about the relationship she had with him, how they felt about each other. She also thought of what she knew of Damian, of the evil associated with that name and what Virgil could be doing wrapped up with him. Her mouth opened to speak but the glint of sun on metal caused her to curse and twist as a crossbow bolt flew through the air where her head had been. It buried itself in a branch just in front of Elfsong. One of Virgo's feet slipped off the branch and her arms flailed wildly as she tried to keep her balance on the tree branch. Despite her best efforts, though, she fell backwards off the branch. Her hands reached out to try and grab a branch and stop her fall. They found some purchase on the branch she had been standing on but it did little more than jar her arm and flip her right-side up again. Well, she thought, now at least I won't fall on my head. As she thought this, she felt something grab her wrist, jarring her arm again but stopping her fall. She looked up to see Knight laying down on the branch and straining to keep his grip on her arm. Sweat beaded on his forehead, "Someone, help. I can't hold on to her forever." In a moment, Blade was with him helping him haul Virgo back onto the branch. "Are you alright?" "I think so," She stared at Knight, "Thank you, but why did you save me? Especially after what me and my men have tried to do?" "What kind of man would I be if I let you fall to your death without even trying to help? I might as well have pushed you off the branch myself." Blade nodded and said, "Yeah, he's nice like that." Elfsong joined the conversation from the next branch over, the crossbow bolt in her hand, "Do you recognize the fletching on this?" Knight took the bolt and examined the feathers, a thick red band between two smaller red bands. "I've seen similar patterns before, but not this one. The red is thicker than any I've seen." He turned to Virgo. Her face was pale and her hands trembled as she took the bolt. "I know whose this is. It's Virgil's. He must have sent someone to find me and they decided to kill me when they saw me talking to you." She turned back to Knight, "I'll help you. Virgil is hosting a party at his estate, some sort of formal ball. It's not for a couple of weeks, so you'll have time to prepare. I'll get you in. I need to find out what's going on." Knight nodded and began to climb back down the tree. So five are now six, and they were going to a party. They were going to need some clothes, not many people attended formal events wearing armor. 


	13. Rest and Relaxation

Rest and Relaxation

Elfsong plopped down on a conveniently place rock and pulled off one of her shoes, rubbing her foot, she said, "Ow, my feet feel like they're going to fall apart if I walk much farther."

"You think you hurt?" Fel rubbed her shoulders. "Try sprouting hair all over your body, having your bones forcibly rearranged, and new appendages grow out of your body. In a matter of seconds at that."

Blade popped her back; "I think we're all a little banged up, a big battle, a chase through the forest, and then that tree." She saw Fade rubbing her head out of the corner of her eye, "Head still hurting from the spells?"

Fade nodded, "Yeah, especially that fog spell, it was the longest I've ever maintained it. My head feels like twenty pounds of rocks in a five pound bag."

Knight took the opportunity to check the bandages on his arm, I think we could all use some time to recuperate. Too bad there isn't an inn close by we could stay at."

"Actually," Virgo said with a smile. "There is this little place that I think you'd like."

They traveled deeper into the forest and soon, the rushing of water could be heard. As they entered a clearing, they found a modest building in the middle of the forest. It seemed to have been built with great respect to nature since they could see trees growing through the roof, and the river that ran under it flowed with clean water.

"I found this place a while back and couldn't bring myself to have my men burnt it. So I've been using it as a getaway when I need some time away from banditing."

Blade whistled, "Nice place, what kind of stuff do they do here?"

Virgo smiled, "The whole works. After they're done with you, you'll swear you've never been more relaxed. They'll untie knots you never even knew you had."

Elfsong clapped her hands and headed toward the building, "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go."

In the lobby, an unusually cheerful receptionist greeted them, annoyingly cheerful, in fact.

"Hello! Welcome to our little paradise." The receptionist scanned the party and they could've sworn that her smile expanded _beyond_ her face when she saw Virgo. "Ah, Mistress Virgo, we haven't had the pleasure of your presence for some time, is everything well?"

"Yes, thank you. My clients have been keeping me busy. These," Virgo gestured to the party, "are some of my business associates. I expect you to treat them as you would me."

"Of course ma'am. If you would all come this way." The six started to follow the receptionist through a door to the back when a hand grabbed Knight roughly. His head whipped around and to his surprise, he found a giant horse of a woman holding his arm in one hand and a rather large club in the other.

Virgo furrowed her brow, "What's the meaning of this?"

The large, brutish woman said, or rather grunted, "No men."

Virgo turned to the receptionist, "Didn't I say to give all of my associates the same treatment you would afford me?"

"A thousand apologies, milady, but I'm afraid Berta is correct. The proprietress has specifically ordered us never to allow a man in, no exceptions. It seems she does not trust them."

"Well, the proprietress can take her issues and-"

"Virgo," Knight interrupted, "It's okay. I don't want to cause any trouble."

"You sure? I'm sure I could get them to change their minds."

"No, it's okay. I was never much of a day spa person. I'll just go out into the forest. I'm more comfortable outside anyway."

"Okay, if you're sure."

All five of the girls waved and said, "Bye, Knight, have fun." And he watched as they excitedly followed the receptionist into the back.

A tug on his arm reminded that he still had the gorilla attached to his arm.

"Okay, okay, I'm going." He pulled his arm free of her grip. "You know, I'm surprised she let's you in here, you look more like a man than most brutes I've seen." Berta apparently didn't appreciate that comment, the next thing Knight knew, he was on his face in the dirt with a black eye that looked like pitch. "Way to go, Knight," He scolded himself. "You really know how to talk to the ladies." Still muttering to himself about his own stupidity, he picked himself up off the ground, brushed himself off, and set off to find something to put on his eye before it started to swell.

The girls were each led into separate changing rooms and provided with a bathing suit and bathrobe. Once they were ready, they were led into a room where a pretty and lithe woman stood smiling warmly.

"Hello," she said. "My name is Mara, I'm the proprietress of the facility. I will be helping you to enjoy your stay here as much as possible."

Blade smiled at her friends while Mara outlined the events of there stay. _This is going to be fun,_ she thought.

_This isn't going to be very fun,_ Knight thought. He had found a spot to make a fire and spread his bedroll but as soon as he had done so, he found gibberling tracks criss-crossing the ground. They didn't look particularly recent, so they probably wouldn't be coming back this way. Probably.

After starting the campfire, he sat down to cook some of the leftover rabbit and felt the cold yellow eyes on his back. His hand went slowly to his sword but didn't draw. Gibberlings were just like all the other dumb animals, if he avoided any sudden movement and made sure they didn't see him as a threat, maybe they'd just go around him.

First on the agenda was a nice soak in the natural hot spring. Heat from below the Earth's crust rose up from the Earth's crust rose up and heated water that flowed down from the Spine of the World and out through the front of the building. The pool itself was carved from the rock, a staggered shelf served as seating and they had even designed a little waterfall that fell into the pool and made a soothing splashing noise. The path to the pool was dark slate rock and on either side shrubs and trees, which went right up through the roof, made the room even more serene, made you feel like you were really outside.

Sinking into the hot water, Fel sighed and said, "I'm going to enjoy every minute of this."

Knight was on his feet now, one hand gripping his still sheathed sword and backing slowly away from the snarling gibberling. The gibberling raised its clawed hands and leaped forward. Requiem flashed from its scabbard and through the air. The gibberling fell at Knight's feet, suffering from what could only be described as a "splitting headache."

More snarls snapped Knight's attention away from his joke. More gibberlings had arrived and they looked none too happy that he had killed one of their kin.

After they had gotten out of the hot spring, they were taken into another room where women gave them manicures, pedicures, even facials. The woman assigned to work on Fel's nails nearly fainted when she saw her hands. Of course, cat-like claws on any human looked pretty strange. One's that were actually used as such tend to take strange to disturbing. Human fingernails just were not designed to be sharpened on tree bark.

Trying her best to keep the slices of whatever vegetable they had put over her eyes, Fade asked Virgo, "How did you ever find this place?"

"When you spend as much time in these woods as I have, you tend to know about a few things. They charge a pretty copper, though.

Elfsong smiled contentedly, "Worth every copper, I say."

Just as luck would have it, he had sat himself in the middle of the territory of the biggest pack of gibberlings he had ever seen. He had several gashes where they had gotten through his defenses. On the bright side, they hadn't taken him on all at once; they could have torn him to ribbons for that.

Come to think of it, why weren't they all coming after him? Their behavior from the beginning wasn't anything like gibberlings he had encountered before. He glance over at the beasts waiting their turn at some live meat, and he saw even more strange behavior. The gibberlings were straining to move forward, as if some sort of invisible leash held them back. He had looked a little too long, and s gibberling jumped on his head. He thrust his sword over his head and into the creature, and pulled it off his head. No sooner had he dealt with one, than he had to turn and cut another one down. Then, the gibberlings stopped. No snarling, no clawing, nothing.

Knight turned and examined his opponents, even kicked one. Nothing. They weren't dead, he could see their eyes blink and their chests expand and contract as they breathed.

In the silence of the forest, he heard a buzzing soon, growing louder and fast. He had enough time to localize the sound and turn when an arrow hit him just below his shoulder. He yelled as the pain washed over him and nearly made him collapse on the ground.

As if his day hadn't gotten bad enough, whatever force holding the gibberlings in there trance decided to let them go, and they came at him again.

Finally, they were given the final treatment. All five lay face down on tables while masseuses kneaded their muscles, taking the last bit of tension out of them. They all felt like their bodies had melted. They were loose and relaxed; any knots were not only untied, but also smoothed out as if it had never been there.

Blade sighed with pleasure, "I'm moving in here and never leaving." The others murmured various forms of agreement. "I wonder if Knight is having as much fun as we are."

His left arm hung useless at his side and the arrow made his shoulder throb. Various cuts and bites bled freely and more gibberlings came. He fumbled through the forms, but he was getting tired, weak, and slow. The gibberlings hopped away from his clumsy slices and came at him again. It wasn't long before it was all he could do to keep them from his throat.

Managing to beat the gibberlings back for a few moments, Knight rested on his sword. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out. He looked in the direction of the resort. He didn't know if they had heard the sounds of the fight, but he doubted it. If help hadn't gotten here by now, it wasn't coming.

Three gibberlings came at him at once. Knight hauled his sword up from the ground and prepared to meet the attack. If he was going down, he was going to make sure he took as many of them with him as they could. The gibberlings stopped short, and it was too late when Knight realized that the real attack was coming from behind. The gibberling crashed into his back and he twisted as he fell. He felt a sharp pain as his head bounced off the ground and he nearly blacked out. The gibberling perched on his chest and raised its paw to deliver the finishing blow. Knight closed his eyes and waited, but it never came. He felt the creature step of the chest and he watched as he walked away, followed by the rest of the gibberlings.

He lay there for a moment, trying to stifle the pain, and then he remembered he was in the middle of the forest. No one would be able to find him. He had to move, try to get back to the resort. He struggled to his feet and began stumbling through the forest.

"Thank you for coming," Mara told her guests. "Virgo, it was a pleasure as usual."

Virgo smiled and handed her a purse, "Thank you, Mara. That should be enough for all of us, plus a little extra."

"Thank you very much. I hope we'll see you again. And be careful. Berta has informed me that there have been gibberlings wandering these woods, along with strange men we've never seen before."

Virgo nodded and turned to the others, "Alright, let's go find Knight and get out of here."

They stepped out into the setting forest sun and with the appreciation of those with nothing on their shoulders, looked at nature as if for the first time. The beauty of the trees, the whisper of the wind, the gurgle of the stream, the blue wrapped body lying in the water…

Knight lay on his back, semi-conscious, looking at the sky through the trees. He saw familiar faces staring down at him, but he couldn't remember who they were. He could see their lips moving, but he couldn't hear their voices.

A hawk flew through the canopy, and he marveled at it. How it adjusted each individual feather adjusted as it glided through the air. He felt someone put a stick between his teeth and hands hold him down, an arm reached across his vision. A jerk on his shoulder, bright light flashed in his eyes, the sounds of the world rushed past him, and the last thing he remembered was the clearest sound of the stick snapping between his teeth, and the darkness enclosed him.

Message from the Author: Apologies for the supreme lack in updates over the last several months. My computer crashed and I thought I had lost everything and was in the slow and painful process of recovering all my files. I've finally found them all and can now restart my erratic posting process! Enjoy!


	14. What Happened

What Happened?

The fire burned high and a pillar of black smoke rose even higher. It had been grueling work, gathering all the gibberlings together. But they knew it's what Knight would have wanted, to burn the vermin so their diseased carcasses couldn't harm others, even in death.

The five heroines stood around the fire with their heads bowed as the flames licked the sky, and they thought of the man in blue who had brought them together. Tears fell to the ground and wet the dead foliage as leaves fell from the trees above.

It was bright, brighter than anything he had ever seen before, and the purest white. And he hadn't opened his eyes yet. When he did, he found that it was even more intense; it surprised him that the brightness didn't hurt his eyes.

"Where am I? What is this place?" His brain made the last few crucial connections and everything came rushing back, the gibberlings, and the arrow, lying in the creek. "Am I dead?"

"Depends on what you define as dead." Out of the whiteness, a robed figure resolved. The way he was dressed and held himself made Knight think of some sort of priest. The man smiled, "Yes, you could say I'm a kind of priest, although I'm quite a bit above your average holy man."

Knight looked at the man incredulously, "So, what are you trying to tell me? That you're God and I'm in heaven?"

The robed man shook his head, "Young man, I am not here to how you the way to eternal bliss, and I am most certainly not God."

"Then who are you and what am I doing here?"

"I'm no more than someone who's here to offer some advice. Though you don't realize it, right at this moment you are fighting for your life. And you are giving up."

"So I am dying."

"To put it bluntly, yes, you are dying. But you don't have to. You're wounds, although serious, are not necessarily fatal. You have the choice of whether or not you die."

"And let me guess, you're here to convince me not to give up."

"On the contrary, I'm here to convince you to die."

Blade, Fade, Fel, Elfsong and Virgo sat in a side room of the spa resort. Mara had set them in guest apartments while they waited to see what became of Knight. He was pretty bad; he had lost a lot of blood when he was attacked by the gibberlings, and the arrow had just barely missed a major artery, choosing instead to lodge in his shoulder blade. They had almost made the damage worse when they pulled it out. Luckily, Fade some basic healing spells.

Mara had a skilled healer on staff that had worked on Knight all through the night, bandaging, stitching, and Healing. She finally managed to stabilize him. He had a constant, albeit weak, pulse and was breathing shallowly, but regularly.

Mara walked through the door and five heads turned to look. She shook her head and stood in front of a small, unlit fireplace.

"For all I can tell, he's physically fine, and there's no logical explanation as to why he's unconscious. It's like some force is keeping his mind in limbo."

Fade shook her head, "Who could be doing that? I've never heard on anyone with that kind of power."

"Nevertheless," Mara replied, "something is keeping him from waking up."

Fel looked up, "was there some sort of poison on the arrow?"

Mara shook her head again, "No, we checked, and the Healer didn't find any foreign agents in his blood."

Elfsong turned to Fade, "Could some sort of magic be responsible?

"There are a good many spells designed to keep a person unconscious, 'Sleep' for example. But anyone of those spells would have dissipated by now and Knight would be either awake, brain dead, or just dead."

"He's doing this to himself." Everyone turned and looked at Blade, "Think about it, the mind is the most powerful thing in existence. It can channel the primal forces of the world into magic, solve complex problems, and look at what monks can do just through sheer force of will."

Virgo had a confused expression, "So, Knight is forcing himself to stay in a coma?"

'I think it's more than that. I think he's fighting some sort of battle in his own mind, and he has some sort of decision he has to make on his own."

"What? What do you mean?" Knight's hands were clenched so tightly into fists, that his knuckles were white.

"It's really quite simple, but it's not every day that someone is told that they will destroy the world, so I'll explain it again." The man folded his arms in his robes and began to pace around Knight. "Not long from now, you and your friends will, indeed, find and confront Damian. It will be an intense battle, Damian's power is great, and you will eventually win, but the cost will be high. Do you remember the technique your father taught you but warned you never to use?"

Yes, he had learned it venturing in the oriental lands to the east of us; it was called Masshibutakku Makura, the Destructive Power of Darkness. Are you saying I'm going to use that attack to kill Damian?"

"Correct. Normally, this would not be a cause for concern, as the effects of this attack are limited, against a normal person. However, Damian is such a wellspring of evil energies that when you use that attack, it's power combines with the power that resides within Damian and explodes across the world. Any who are not immediately killed will go mad and die slow, horrible deaths. All because of you."

Knight shook his head, "No, that's impossible. I swore and oath never to use that attack and I will not break it."

"You will break this one, that destiny has already been written. But you can avoid it; the Fates did not expect this opportunity to present itself. You can change the future, come with me into Oblivion, save the lives of the people you are sworn to protect."

Knight's head bowed and his hands relaxed, "I really don't have a choice, do I?"

"Not if you wish to preserve life in this world."

"Alright, I'll go with you."

The man nodded and, turning around, inscribed a large circle in the air. A portal leading into darkness swirled into existence in the space he marked. The man gestured Knight forward.

One of Mara's girls burst into the room, almost breaking the door down. Breathlessly, she said, "We're losing him, he's not breathing and his pulse is fading!"

The six women jumped to their feet and ran for the door, nearly knocking the girl of her feet.

Knight's body lay on a cot in a bare room while a Healer frantically tried to keep him alive. When they entered, she was pouring some sort of herbal concoction down his throat.

"What happened?" Blade asked the Healer.

"I'm not sure, one moment he's fine and the next I've got my hands full just keeping his heart breathing, some one hand me that stone in that bag over there." Mara snatched the bag off the floor and handed the small smooth stone to the Healer. She chanted a few words over it and placed on Knight's chest. "I just gave him the strongest heart's fire and athelin plant mixture I can make, it should help some, this Heart Stone will tell us."

The stone began to slowly pulsate blue and read, show the rhythm of Knight's heart. It didn't look good, any slower and his heart will have stopped.

Blade grabbed one of Knight's cold hands and said, "No, Knight. Stay with us, don't give up."

Knight stood in front of the portal. He didn't know why, but he felt cold, and his head was starting to get cloudy. _This must be what it feels like to die._ He lifted a foot to walk forward again, when voices cut through the wool in his mind. They were familiar to him, telling him not to give in, to stay. His foot went back down on the floor.

"Before we go, I have a question. What will happen to my friends?"

"You don't need to know that, you already know what you have to do."

"No, I need to know, and I'm not going anywhere until you tell me."

The man shook his head, "Very well. They will continue on without you, and they will confront Damian without you. But without you Masshibutakku Makura, they will lose."

"What! Why didn't you tell me that before?"

"Because you know the consequences! Can you honestly say that they would want to die slowly and painfully with the knowledge that they helped destroy the world than meet a quick end with more opportunities to end Damian's evil?"

Knight turned away, "No, I can't, but now that I know, maybe I can change it."

"I tell you, if you go back your future is set!"

"No," Knight looked down at the ground. "When he died, my father told me something. 'The future has not been written, you can always make your own destiny.' You said yourself, I have a choice."

The robed man shook with fury, "So be it. And when you destroy the world for your own selfishness, remember that it could have ended here."

His eyes shot open and he gasped as air filled his lungs, and the rock on his chest began shifting colors faster. It took a few moments for the shapes in his vision to resolve into the faces he knew. He sat up and smiled at the relieved expressions on their face. "I'm going to be alright. Really, I'm going to be fine." They all came at him at once, happy to see their friend was back with them. But in his mind, Knight wondered, _did I just kill us all?_ Then he remembered the words of his father, all those years ago.

_The future has not been written; you can always make your own destiny._

--Author's Notes: Yeah, this is just a first version of how I want this chapter to go. That Japanese there, not gonna be in the final draft. It sounds neat all by its lonesome, but it just doesn't fit with the more western style of the rest of the story. Maybe if the whole thing took place in the Orient it would work, but reading over it, it just doesn't sound right. I dunno. Well here you go, enjoy!


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